But That Was The Thing
by DonnellyFan
Summary: Some trouble has found the Donnelly brothers, or maybe they have found trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**But That Was the Thing**

** Chapter 1  
**

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**A/N: This is my first Black Donnellys story, and I appreciate any feedback you have. Right now the idea of the story is to bounce around from present and past, because I do like flashbacks. The flashbacks will be in italics.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Donnelly brothers or any of the other great characters on the Black Donnellys.**

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Lying in bed listening to the rain, Kevin could only imagine that the deep pounding in his chest would turn into some kind of stroke. Maybe a heart attack if he were lucky. 

Lucky. It wasn't bloody likely.

This was becoming a habit, and if there was one thing he was learning about habits, it was that they never led you down the road you wanted. He certainly wasn't down any good roads lately; it seemed like no one was.

Muffled voices echoed from inside and he tried to urge himself out of bed. But another roll of thunder crackled and he rolled over onto his face instead, breathing slow breaths into the pillow.

He didn't even play pool, but the games had been all in his favor. They had been all in his favor until he started betting on them. Then the talent he had been surprised to find he had suddenly disappeared. A couple games in and he realized that the bets would not be in his favor.

Kevin groaned at the memory and rolled out of the bed to his feet, digging through his pockets on his way out of the bedroom. Two soggy dollars, a bottle cap, and three nickels.

"Do you even own a wallet?" he heard Sean say.

Kevin looked up to find his brother watching him with an amused grin. "Funny, Sean," he said. Kevin slid his belongings back into his pocket. "That's funny."

"I was coming to get you," Sean said, giving him a push. "Dinner."

The kitchen was warm from the oven and smelled good. Kevin usually didn't have any trouble eating but he was having a hard time working up an appetite as he joined Sean and his mother. He slid in next to her at the table.

"What are you doing sittin' in wet clothes for?" Helen Donnelly frowned at her son as she unceremoniously plopped food on his plate.

"It's raining." Thunder accompanied his words and Sean rolled his eyes, starting to wonder himself where Kevin had been earlier that day.

"Captain Obvious, thanks," Sean said.

Kevin frowned at him, ripping off a chunk from the loaf of bread.

"Seriously, where were you?"

Kevin met Sean's eye for a second and shook his head, then looked at his mother, who seemed to have a permanent frown etched into her face. She suspected something was up. But she never asked. "This is good, Ma," he said.

"You haven't eaten it," she said flatly.

Sean smirked at him and Kevin picked up his fork, shoveling some of the casserole into his mouth. He stayed quiet most of dinner, not even tasting his food, and was relieved when the conversation turned on Sean's apparent lack of effort in school, seeing as it was midterms and all.

"Slacker," he said through a mouthful of bread.

Sean kicked him under the table. "Why don't you tell us where you were today?"

"Why don't you talk about that paper you need to do?" Kevin kicked him back.

"I don't have any papers." Kick.

"Tests then." Kevin kicked him again and his fork clattered to the ground.

"Get out of my kitchen." Helen slapped Kevin's arm, as he was closest. He gave her a frown. "Both of ya. And put your plates in the sink."

It wasn't until later when Kevin was on his way out the door that Sean drew the story out of him. "Two thousand, Kevin?" he asked in the end. "Two thousand?"

Kevin shrugged. "What's a gamble if you don't gamble?"

"Smart?"

Kevin hesitated a second and then frowned. "Be serious," he said with a tone of complaint in his voice.

"Do you need help?"

"No."

"C'mon."

"No," he repeated, rolling his eyes. He wasn't as confidant as his quick response made him seem, but he found himself repeating the same answer to his other brothers not even an hour later when they got part of the story out of him. Only he wasn't telling anyone the full story. So they focused on what got him into the debt, thinking it was a simple case of owing some pool hustler a little cash.

"You don't even know how to play pool. Do ya, Kevin?" Tommy sent him a hard gaze.

"I'm not stupid, Tommy."

"Well stop acting like it."

"I don't even know why I tell you."

"Because we would find out anyway," Tommy said with a pointed look.

"How much is it?" Jimmy asked. The glazed over look in his oldest brother's eyes made Kevin frown. He looked down at his own half-finished beer.

"I can take care of it. Just leave it." He turned his back on them, wanting to be left alone, but Tommy caught him by the shirt and pulled him back around.

"Hey, Kevin. C'mere. What is this?" He held a blue square of cue chalk under his younger brother's nose. "What's this for?"

Kevin shook him off and stared at the square for a second, then looked at Tommy. "How the hell should I know?" He said it defensively, because he didn't like the amused look on Tommy's face. Then Jimmy started laughing.

"You're a class act, Kevin."

"Stop it." He whacked away Tommy's hand and the chalk fell to the ground.

He told himself he should never tell them anything. But he knew it wasn't true. Having his brothers make him feel stupid was something he could deal with if it meant they would have his back.

--

_He was certain no one would find him beneath the bunk beds. He lay there breathing in the dust bunnies and staring at the wall, his chest pounding. Why? What had he been thinking? He had been tricked; it wasn't his fault._

_What was it about President Jackson's face staring out at him from the crisp green paper bill that he just could not leave be? _

_It all started with the bet to Brian Donovan. Brian was almost three years older and, thanks to being left back one too many times, was one of the biggest kids in his class. He also lived to taunt the younger kids, and Kevin was no exception._

_On that particular day, Brian had made a bet to Kevin that the younger boy did not have the guts to steal the teacher's car keys. Kevin took the bait, chin held high. How much, he had demanded. Twenty bucks had been the answer, and away they went._

_He had snuck in early from recess to look. Searched the desk, its drawers, and the teacher's coat. Frantically, because he sensed someone coming in the room at any moment. It was to no avail, because he couldn't find the keys anywhere. _

_Needless to say, he had needed to scrounge up twenty bucks, because Brian was threatening to steal his homework the rest of the year. He had gone one-on-one with this kid before, and it had not ended in his favor. He knew he couldn't fight him off every day. And Kevin had enough trouble in school as it was, never mind having some kid bully him out of the work his mother had forced him to do the night before._

_So on advice from Jimmy, who never questioned the need for money, Kevin had swiped some money that a customer had put down as payment at one of the tables at the coffee shop down the street. Smoothly. Or so he thought. Only some man had seen him, and had tried to catch his arm._

"_You're a Donnelly," the man had said. "I know your father."_

_But Kevin had already ducked his head and scrambled out the door, running down the street as fast as his legs could carry him, the bill crumpled in his fist. He had caught his breath two blocks down and continued on his day as normal, dwelling on his near capture for a minute at most. Only when he got home, he knew the look on his mother's face didn't bode well for him._

"_Kevin Donnelly. Were you at a coffee shop today?" Her voice was stony; her eyes dared him to try a lie. He stared at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. Damn. _

_Deny, he told himself. But no words were coming. He swallowed hard._

"_Kevin. I'll ask you again. Were you at a coffee shop today?"_

_He tried again to come up with some kind of answer, but words still abandoned him. He shook his head slightly, eyes flickering away to find a quick escape instead. Helen Donnelly raised her hand, as if a smart smack would loosen his tongue, but Kevin ducked under her arm before she had the chance._

"_Just you wait until your father gets home," she had warned to his retreating back. Just wait. Her words echoed in his head. _

_Which was what brought him here. Under the bed. Down with the dust bunnies. Because those words only meant one thing, and it meant more than ducking away from one of his ma's smacks._

_He needed a plan._

_There were hurried footsteps into the room and a small blonde head peaked under the bed at him. Sean. _

_He vowed to find a new hiding spot. _

"_Kevin, we wanna play ball. Now."_

"_So go." _

"_We need you," said Sean._

_Kevin shook his head no._

"_We need you," Sean repeated, as though the words had not been heard the first time. He slid himself further under the bed as if that would rouse his brother out. _

"_I heard you. Go away, Seany."_

_Sean did not relent. Sean, as a rule, reasoned. "It's the Credidio's, and they say that the three of them could beat the four of us, 'cause they say Jimmy can't keep up, so Jimmy wanted to hit Mick, but last time Jimmy punched Mick then Mick's dad came to complain, then Ma was mad, so Tommy says we should just play them, and when we play them then we can show them it's not true. See?" Sean caught his breath, waiting for the response he wanted. _

_Kevin stared at his tow-haired brother, trying to digest the run-on sentence. _

"_See?" Sean repeated._

"_Mick's the slowest kid in the neighborhood," Kevin said finally. _

"_So come on."_

_Kevin should his head, silent. After a few more minutes of persistence, Sean glared at him and gave up. But Kevin had only a minute or so more to stew before he heard footsteps again, these less hurried than the ones preceding them. _

"_Get outta there, Kevin." It was Tommy._

_There were times when Tommy had the patience of a saint. Other times it was limited. _

"_I'm serious." Sometimes it was more limited than others. "Kevin!"_

_This time the voice was hard and a hand clamped on his ankle, pulling. Kevin kicked at him, hoping to loosen the iron grip, and connected with something, which was rewarded with a slap to the back of his leg. It stung and he stubbornly made up his mind that he would not give Tommy the satisfaction of getting him out. He wedged himself firmly against the wall._

"_Kevin," Tommy said. Kevin didn't budge. He stared at the wall, willing Tommy to go away._

_He did. But in five minutes, Kevin heard Jimmy's voice._

"_Pop's still at work, Kev. Come out. If I have to get you, I'll punch you in the face."_

_The threat, real or imagined, had the younger boy crawling out from under the bed. He had given up on being left alone by then. Jimmy was in the doorway and looked like he hadn't planned on coming in regardless._

"_Man," Jimmy said, laughing. "Are you in a mess."_

_Jimmy had this cackle of a laugh and it was usually infectious. Not this time. Kevin stared at him, brow furrowed and dust clinging to his curly mop of hair. He kicked at a pile of dirty laundry on the floor._

"_It's fixed though," Jimmy said, watching his little brother's frustration. "Me and Tommy fixed it."_

"_Fixed it how?"_

"'_Cause we claimed you were with us at the time, that's how. At the pizza parlor. So that's where you were. Got it?"_

_The younger boy nodded, mulling it over. That worked. It was perfect really. The worry in the pit of his stomach slowly faded. He thought for a second and then he shoved at his brother, angry now instead. "This is your fault." _

"_My fault?" Jimmy repeated, caught off-guard by the shove. But he laughed. "My fault? I told you how to get the money. I didn't tell you to swipe it under the nose of somebody we know. It's not my fault you're retarded."_

_Kevin shoved him again, harder this time. "I'm not retarded."_

"_Push me again, Kevin, and you will be."_

_But that was the thing about Kevin Donnelly. It was the same as making a bet that he couldn't do something. Chances were he would take that bet._

_So of course he came at his brother again, only this time Jimmy shoved him back and the smaller boy fell backwards, landing on the ground with a not so soft thud. _

_The thing about Jimmy Donnelly was that you didn't push him. _

_And that was how Tommy found them, with Jimmy in the doorway and Kevin sitting on the floor with a cross look on his face, rubbing an elbow. _

"_Car keys, Kevin?" Tommy stared at him. "Car keys?" Somehow Tommy always knew what the story was, even if you didn't tell him._

"_Yeah, so?"_

"_Kevin," Tommy said slowly, pursing his lips. "Mr. O'Brien doesn't even drive a car." _

"_Yeah, so?"_

"_You can't get car keys, from someone who doesn't drive a car."_

_Jimmy started laughing again and Kevin glared at him harder. That was why he didn't tell them anything._

--

**I hope you guys like it so far. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2 **

Jimmy loved to watch his brother work the ladies. Sean's game didn't require much. A smile maybe. A discrete ducking of the head, followed by the looking back up to catch her eye. It was a coy innocence that worked every time. It was currently working on the redhead who had found her way at the Firecracker to ask for directions to a bakery.

"Who finds a bar to ask directions?" Jimmy asked aloud from the other end of the bar. He swiveled his drink around in its mug, as though asking the amber liquid its opinion. "Directions to a bakery."

Tommy just shook his head.

"I guess when you want a cupcake, you want a cupcake," Jimmy continued, taking a swig of the beer. "Only I don't think she's after cupcakes anymore." The redhead's high-pitched giggle reached them and Tommy made a face. Jimmy started to laugh. "Man, that's killer."

From the other end, Sean appeared to be offering the girl a beer. The girl appeared to be accepting.

"It's ten in the morning." Jimmy's commentary continued as he watched this new exchange. "Now she's having a beer with him. Ten in the morning!" 

"Yeah, Jimmy, it's a cryin' shame. How many's this?" Tommy nudged the arm holding the mug, eyebrows raised. "Seany's filled this how many times already?"

Jimmy's face turned serious. "Oh, come off it, Tommy."

"I'm just saying, you know, ten in the morning."

"Just sayin'," Jimmy mocked, turning his attention back to the other end of the bar. "Why don't you relax and have a beer, huh. Wouldn't hurt you to just relax every once and awhile."

Tommy stared at him, half-incredulous. Relax? He was looking at the main reason why he could never relax. Lord help him. Relax? One of these days he was going to walk out on it all. Swear to God. He wouldn't look back.

But not today. He slid off his barstool and made his way around the bar, pulling down a glass, which he inspected first and then held under the tap. Today he needed that beer.

"Top me off too."

"We're not gonna have anything to serve if we keep drinking the stock, Jimmy."

"You know what, Tommy? You don't tell me how to run my bar, I don't tell you how to draw the naked girls at the art school."

It was the common joke between his three brothers, a line one of them had started and the idea had just stuck. Their simple explanation for why he could stick with the art school while the rest of them had a hard time staying with anything, even a girlfriend. Secretly they were proud of him, jealous even, but that wasn't something they could ever say, or show. Naked girls, however, were something that they could regularly bring up in conversation.

"I don't—"

The telephone interrupted with a shrill ring and Jimmy gave a smirk. "Yeah, you don't. Firecracker," he said. There was a pause. "Nah, he's not here."

Tommy raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yeah," Jimmy was saying. He glanced at Tommy. Long pause. "Yeah. I'll tell 'im." 

Tommy watched him hang up the phone and waited for Jimmy to say something. He didn't. Instead he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid one out. "Who was it?"

"No one."

"Asking for Kevin?"

"Yes. Asking for Kevin."

"Who was it?"

"Santa Claus." Jimmy lit his cigarette and gave Tommy a look. "What's it matter?"

"Jimmy, who was it?"

"Lay off it, Tommy."

"Where is he anyway?"

"Where's who?"

Tommy's eyes were daggers.

"Will you relax? He's runnin' me a favor." 

"Running you a favor," Tommy repeated slowly. "What kinda favor?"

Jimmy took a long drag on his cigarette. That was the thing about Tommy. He was a control freak. The way Jimmy saw it, Tommy didn't trust anyone else to be able to fix things as well as he could. He didn't trust anyone else to act as smart or as good as he did. And he didn't trust Jimmy when it came to their younger brothers. Frankly, it got on Jimmy's nerves. He was the oldest. He could make the decisions.

"What kinda favor?" Tommy demanded.

"A favor for a friend." Purposely vague.

"Oh that's nice, Jimmy. Real nice. A favor for a friend. What kinda friend?" Tommy knew some of Jimmy's friends. They were worthless.

"Look Tommy, why don't you just relax. It doesn't concern you. Kevin needed help; I needed a favor for a friend. End of story."

"I swear to God, Jimmy—"

"Yeah? What're you gonna do?" 

Sean glanced over as his brothers' conversation increased in volume. Tommy stood behind the bar, his hands planted on the counter as he leaned over in Jimmy's face, talking in hushed but harsh tones. Jimmy was off of his bar stool now, cheeks flushed, not backing down.

"Are they okay?" The redhead giggled nervously. Sean gave her a small smile.

"Them? They're fine… They, uh, it's probably about who's gonna win the baseball game on tonight." But then they were shoving each other. One of the stools fell over with a loud clatter. Sean gave an apologetic look to the girl and left her side. "Hey!"

Tommy sent Sean a quick glance. "Did you know about this?"

"Did I know about what?"

"Know that Tommy can't mind his own business!"

"Shut up, Jimmy," Tommy snapped.

Sean glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure the redhead, Ann Marie, was still there. She was. For now. He looked back at his brothers. "Know about _what_?"

He was ignored as the two went at it again and Sean hesitated, never one to jump in-between the one of their brawls. He pulled at Tommy's arm and was pushed away roughly.

"Hey!" Sean was peeved. They could at listen to him. But that was just it. No one ever listened to him. He tried a second time to pull Tommy back, but was shoved again.

The redhead was getting up to leave. She looked a little nervous. The apologetic looks weren't keeping her around any longer.

"Jimmy!" Annoyed that he hadn't even gotten the girl's number yet, never mind anything more than her first name, Sean grabbed the nozzled hose from the sink and pointed it at them. He heard the door to the Firecracker open and shut. "Tommy!" When neither one looked his way, he pulled the trigger.

He didn't really expect the wall of silence that would follow, Jimmy and Tommy staring at him in surprise, mouths open, the cold water dripping down their faces. But the argument had halted. Okay. Now what.

"You didn't just do that," Jimmy said, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes and blinking quickly. "What the hell, Sean."

"Did I know about what?" Sean repeated his earlier question, looking back and forth between them.

"Never mind." Tommy came back around the counter, his words abrupt. There wasn't an inch of anything less than serious on his face. He brushed some clinging water drops from his shirt and grabbed his jacket.

"C'mon, Tommy," Sean tried. They never told him anything

"I said never mind." Tommy's back was to them then; he was heading to the door. He turned before he opened it and paused a second, caught there in the shadow. "Do that again, Seany, and I'll bruise your pretty face."

Jimmy started to laugh, which made Tommy glare at him as he stepped out onto the street. As the door to the bar shut, Sean glanced at his still chuckling brother, not smiling.

"What was that about?"

Jimmy turned a little serious, but then nudged the younger's arm. "Forget it. It's nothing. You get that girl's number or what?"

--

Kevin raked a hand through his hair, squinting at the address that was hastily scribbled on the back of his hand. He couldn't figure out if that was a twenty-seven or a twenty-nine.

It was one of those early fall days with air newly cool and crisp, the sky bluer than you could remember it ever being. Leaves crunched under his feet as he walked, but he couldn't enjoy any part of it. Everyone and their mother was out, walking their dogs, doing whatever it was that people do on nice fall days, and he swore that everyone was looking at him. Was suspicious of him.

He looked at his hand again. Seven. No. Definitely a nine. But maybe not. If only that part hadn't smudged like that. It didn't really matter though, it would be on the same side of the street.

Jimmy had said it would be simple. It was doing him a favor. He didn't question things when they came from Jimmy. Simple. Take the package from the first guy, bring it to the second. Get the money from the second guy, bring it back to the first. Act as the go-between. These were friends of Jimmy's, one of them maybe, or he thought so at least, and so nothing would go down. It would get him part of the money he needed. And do Jimmy a favor. Win-win. Great odds.

Kevin didn't look in the bag, although he was dying to. He had never seen cocaine before, and he was curious. Did it look like flour? Sugar? Baking soda probably. It became a distraction for part of the walk, listing in his head all of the white powders he could think of.

And then he was there, at the right block, and the list stopped. He raked his hand through his hair again, palms sweaty. Looked at his watch. Two minutes until the set time. Felt the bulky package through his jacket. Seven or nine?

A police car drove by and his legs felt like jelly. Was it trolling along slower than usual? Did the officer look at him? He swore he could see the eyes behind those shades that every cop seemed to wear. Keep walking.

Kevin scanned the street, feeling sick. Don't be sick, don't be sick.

That dark car, parked across the street. Maybe that was an undercover cop. Isn't that what happened on drug deals? Why else would the guy just be sitting in it like that? Was he looking at him? Well now he was, if only to return the stare. Kevin berated himself. Stop drawing attention.

That little old lady sitting on her front stoop. She looked at him funny. And she wasn't smiling. She knew something. He looked away from her.

He didn't really know how to do this. Wasn't really sure how to pick out the guy who had the money for this bag, or how to go about giving him the stuff. Or even how to take the money. Would they exchange words? He wouldn't be able to talk. All he wanted to do was throw up in the hedges.

The cop car again, the second time. That was odd, right? Kevin's heartbeat quickened but the patrol car just cruised by. He took a deep breath. Get it over and done with. No one is after you.

He started toward the address, freezing at the sound of a siren. No, not a siren. Just a car alarm. No big deal. He smirked to himself. He could handle this.

There were two men standing next to the stairs of apartment twenty-nine and Kevin aimed toward them, his footsteps feeling heavy. Deep breaths. Act cool. They didn't have to know that you were scared shitless.

He froze again. That. That _was_ a siren. Two sirens actually. He took one more heavy step and then saw flashing red, white, and blue lights a block and a half away.

Damn.

They could know he was scared shitless. He took off running.

--


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3  
**

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**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me if you've gotten this far! I know it's random--my mind tends to be that way.  
**

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"Where's your brother today?"

Sean shrugged at his mother, slowly chewing on his too large mouthful of food. It was dinnertime, usually the time when Kevin popped up out of nowhere without fail, and the empty place setting at the table seemed odd. "I don't know, ma."

"You don't know?"

Sean gave her a frustrated look, and she gave him a hard stare in return. He raised his eyebrows. "Ma, I don't know. What am I, his keeper?"

"You are, in fact. You're all each other's keepers."

Sean rolled his eyes, but it was true. They hadn't inherited much, but they had inherited each other. Every trouble included. It was a curse as much as it was a blessing.

"He's been acting odd lately, Kevin has," she said. "Have you noticed?"

There were times Sean Donnelly felt like an informant. For his mother, about his brothers. For his brothers, about each other. "No more than usual," he said. He concentrated on his food. Helen Donnelly pushed the heaping bowl of peas toward his plate. He ignored it.

"He owe people money again?"

"I don't know. You can ask him."

They would protect each other from everyone else. Even her. But she knew, in her heart, that her boys were good. And that was all a mother could hold on to. "Eat some peas, Sean. There's plenty."

"I'm okay."

"There's plenty."

He slowly spoon a few peas onto his plate, inwardly growling. The phone rang and he jumped up to get it, relieved.

"Hello?"

"Seany, hey." Jimmy. "Gimme Kevin."

"Can't. Not here."

"Where's he?'

"Don't know that either." Sean heard some kind of muttered curse. "What?"

"Look, tell him to call me."

"Sure. Hey, Jimmy?" But the phone had already clicked to dial tone.

--

"_You have to inhale. Look." Jimmy took a long drag on his cigarette and slowly exhaled. Some smoke curled from his nostrils and Sean started to giggle._

"_I wanna do that. You look like a bull."_

_It was a hot day, too hot to run around anymore, and Jimmy had stolen a pack of cigarettes from the corner store. Sean and Kevin had tailed him to the rooftop and he informed them that he was going to teach them how to smoke._

_Kevin watched Sean try it first, watching as the tip flared briefly red and then returned to gray ash. Jimmy took a long drag on his own cigarette, grinning when Sean made a face._

"_Atta boy. You like it, Seany?"_

_The blonde head bobbed up and down, but the boy coughed too and it was an obvious lie. He didn't really, but Jimmy always looked so cool there, smoking on the roof, and he didn't want to look dumb. Besides, he did like the smoke coming out of his mouth. "Yeah, it's cool."_

"_Let Kevin try."_

"_But I wanna do the bull thing."_

_Jimmy chuckled. "Give Kev a try first."_

_Kevin took the cigarette and tried a long drag, mimicking Jimmy. But the inhalation part got to him and he started coughing. Which started Sean giggling again._

"_Shut up," Kevin said, glaring at him. He sucked in quickly on the cigarette again, as if to prove he could do it, and promptly starting the coughing again._

"_Kevin, relax." Jimmy squeezed his brother's shoulder and then plucked the cigarette out of his fingers. Kevin scowled as Sean got another drag. Jimmy hadn't asked him if he had liked it. He hadn't gotten to lie and say yes. This annoyed him. _

_They finished that cigarette, passing it back and forth between them, and it was halfway through a game of gin rummy there on the roof that Kevin started to feel sick. He glanced at Sean, wondering if he felt the same, but couldn't tell. _

"_You okay?" Jimmy noticed the flushed look on his face and his antsy behavior. "You feel sick, Kevin?"_

"_No."_

"_You sure?"_

"_Yes. It's hot is all." Kevin shook his head, feeling kind of dizzy. He kicked at his cards. "It's too hot to sit up here."_

"_Well if you're gonna puke—"_

"_I'm not gonna puke."_

"_I might…" Sean suddenly looked green in the face. "I feel sick."_

_Kevin was going to make fun of him but suddenly realized that he wasn't so sure about not getting sick after all either. _

_The rooftop was abandoned._

_Later in the kitchen, Jimmy didn't miss the look that Tommy gave him. It was hard to decipher, but there was some judgment thrown in there and Jimmy didn't like it. Sean and Kevin were fine, what was the big deal?_

"_They asked me to, Tommy, it's not like I forced them." Truthfully, they hadn't asked, but it was only because he had offered before they could. _

"_I didn't say anything, Jimmy."_

_Jimmy rolled his eyes. Lately it seemed like Tommy was becoming a stick in the mud. "It's not like you haven't tried it either. They were going to eventually. All the better it was with me."_

"_Yeah. Sure." Tommy studied the piece of paper he had been scribbling on. He wasn't going to argue. But peer pressure wasn't supposed to come from your older brother. Of course they had wanted to do it. He had been down that road too at one time or another._

"_I'm having another Popsicle," Sean announced, coming back into the kitchen. Kevin was quick on his heels. "But I don't want another orange one."_

_  
"You should change your shirt."_ _Jimmy caught Sean by the arm. It was one thing to have your younger brother judge you. His mother was another story. "You smell like smoke. Kevin, you too."_

"_But I like this shirt." Kevin bit off the end of his Popsicle with a frown. _

"_Just change it, okay?"_

_Sean poked Kevin in the chest with his own newly opened Popsicle. It was cherry. "Just change it, okay," he mimicked. _

"_Hey," Kevin objected. He pointed his own Popsicle at Sean, but the remainder of the flavored ice slid of the wooden stick and plopped onto the kitchen floor. Sean started to laugh and Kevin punched him in the arm._

"_Ow!"_

"_C'mon, Kevin." _

_Kevin raised his eyebrows at Tommy. "What?" _

_Jimmy sent Tommy a grin as if to say, See? No worse for wear. _

"_Mom'll be home soon," was all Tommy said. "You should change. All of you." _

--

No one had been at the Firecracker. The sign had still been lit, but it meant nothing because the doors were locked and the lights were all off inside. Kevin had tried a couple of the other bars where Jimmy could usually be found, but no one had seen him that night.

He needed to talk to Jimmy.

It was almost impossible to make a quiet entrance into the Donnelly apartment. The key had to be jiggled to unlock the door, which had a low squeak to it if opened too slowly, and the front hallway, when its floorboards didn't creak, almost always had something strewn on the floor to trip on.

These were the sounds that Tommy heard around midnight as he lay in bed. He waited a moment until he heard subsequent rustling in the kitchen, then rubbed his face and pulled himself out of the warmth of his blankets.

In the kitchen, Kevin was pouring milk into a near overflowing bowl of cereal by the light of the open refrigerator door. From the darkened doorway, Tommy watched the back of the curly head quietly for a moment before moving closer.

"Kevin."

Kevin jumped when the hand fell on his shoulder; the bowl of cereal clattered to the floor. There was a pause. "Tommy?"

"Why're you so jumpy, Kevin?"

The initial alarm had passed and Kevin glared at him. "You can't sneak up on people like that, Tommy. In the dark."

Tommy flipped the kitchen light on with a pointed look. "You were the one sneaking around in the dark."

"Damn. You know, I really wanted to eat that." Kevin was staring at the cereal and milk pooling on the floor, still holding onto a spoon.

Tommy studied his face, instinctively scanning it for signs of any bruises or cuts. The daily checkup. "Kevin."

"I haven't eaten, and that was all that was left. We don't have any more." Kevin grabbed for some paper towels on the counter, hesitated, and then just threw the whole roll onto the puddle. He tossed his spoon in the sink and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs with a frown. "Is Jimmy home? He wasn't at the bar."

"Clean that up, Kevin."

"I am. Relax. Do you know where he is?"

"You do a favor for him, Kevin?"

"No."

"Kevin."

"No, Tommy. I didn't. Well, maybe." He shifted under the unwavering look on Tommy's face. "Actually no, I didn't."

"What does 'maybe' and 'actually no' mean." Tommy's speech was slow and deliberate.

"And even if I did, Tommy, what's it to you anyway?" Kevin looked back at him, keeping an even gaze now. "It's between me and Jimmy."

"Because I'm asking you, Kevin."

"Well I didn't."He was always caught between Tommy and Jimmy, trying to please them both. But they were never on the same plane. He gave Tommy a frustrated look. "I tried," he said finally.

"You tried."

"Stop repeating what I say."

"How do you _try_ and make a drug deal, Kevin?"

Kevin looked up sharply. He knew. Tommy always knew. "Jimmy told you? Jimmy said he wasn't going to tell you."

These words rubbed Tommy the wrong way, you could tell by looking at him.

"Look, I was just doing a favor—"

"A favor, Kevin? This isn't a favor!"

"Shh… You're gonna wake ma," Kevin complained.

Tommy sent him a hard gaze.

"Tommy," he said softly. "It was just a favor."

"Drugs, Kevin? Being a drug runner?"

"I'm not a drug runner."

"What do you call it then, Kevin, huh? What's the right word?"

Kevin glared at him. "I didn't even, okay? I didn't make the transaction."

"You didn't make the transaction." Tommy repeated the words slowly.

"Will you stop repeating what I say?"

Tommy leaned against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. "Enlighten me, Kevin."

"I got the stuff… I just didn't deliver. There was a complication." Kevin rubbed his face, looking at Tommy hopefully. Tommy raised an eyebrow as the events were relayed without much detail. A complication. Kevin was a complication.

"Tell me you didn't bring drugs into our mother's house, Kevin."

Kevin ran his finger along the edge of the kitchen table and gave a small shrug, eyebrows raised in an unsure way. Tommy looked ready to slug him. He jabbed him sharply in the shoulder with two fingers instead. "Tell me that much."

Kevin's hand came up to protect his shoulder. "Okay, Tommy. I didn't, okay?" He had to force his eyes not to look to the freezer, where he had frantically stashed the bag under some frozen chicken when he first came in.

"Where is it?"

That was the thing about lies. You had to think quickly to cover them up, and Kevin hesitated too long. Tommy knew. "What was I supposed to do, Tommy?" Kevin twisted in his seat. "I need to talk to Jimmy. He's gonna be pissed."

"Shut up, Kevin. Just… shut up."

And Kevin obeyed, chewing at a hangnail absently, waiting. Waiting for Tommy to say something. But he wasn't saying anything. Why wasn't he saying anything.

Tommy was thinking. Wondering why it was that no matter how many times Jimmy disappointed them, Kevin still worried about his opinion. Needed to please him.

"Tommy—"

"Clean that up, Kevin," Tommy said softly, motioning to the floor. "And get whatever shit, drugs, whatever you brought home out of here. I don't want it in the house."

"It's late, Tommy, I can do that tomorrow."

"Tonight, Kevin." Tommy pointed a finger at him. "Get it out of here. I'm going back to bed."

--


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4**

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**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! It's been really fun to write so far. **

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There were mornings Jimmy Donnelly peeled his body off uncomfortable surfaces in arbitrary locations and struggled to remember the events of the previous night. There were the other mornings he tried to forget those episodes, but more often than not, there were mornings he could care less either way.

His arm ached from a sloppy shoot-up the night before and it was a care less kind of morning when Jimmy scraped himself into the Firecracker, bleary-eyed and in want of a beer. His back ached, his head ached, his throat was scratchy.

"You look like you slept in a gutter." Sean was manning the bar.

"Thanks a lot, Seany." Jimmy slid onto a barstool and propped his elbows up on the bar. "Don't you have school?"

"Holiday."

"Holiday of what?"

"Holiday of no school today."

"Ma is going to skin you alive, you know that?"

"She'll get over it."

"You don't even have much more, you know." Jimmy picked up a glass mug and examined it carelessly. Clean enough. "Just finish whatever you got left and be done."

"To hell with that, Jimmy. I got other things."

Jimmy raised his eyebrows, looking amused. "Yeah? Not for nothing, but what other things?"

"Besides, they're not teaching me anything new," Sean said, ignoring the question. He pulled the mug from Jimmy's inspection and rinsed it under the tap, hoping to avoid any more scrutiny. He knew it was good advice. Good advice coming from Jimmy.

"Whatever, Seany. It's up to you."

"Here." Sean slid the now beer-filled mug in front of him and leaned his weight against the counter. It was time for a subject change. "You know, if we served breakfast in here or something, we could get some morning business."

"Yeah maybe, but that's what the diner's for."

"I'm just saying. It might help pick things up."

"People don't go to a bar for breakfast," Jimmy said, taking a long drink from his beer. He also didn't want to make breakfast for said people. "And we don't have a kitchen."

Sean shrugged. There was a moment of silence. "Well what about stock in general?"

"What about it?"

"Well, there's not a lot of it. If people want a mixed drink or something… we probably don't have the stuff to make it, right?"

Jimmy rubbed the side of his face, feeling the intensity of his headache growing. "Look, Seany, I appreciate the ideas and all, but I don't really want to think right now."

That was the thing about the bar. Owning the joint and running the joint were two different beasts. Jimmy took his pride from the first.

Sean shrugged. "I'm just saying, this place could be good if we put a little work into it."

"Sean. Another time."

Sean reluctantly let it go.

Jimmy was in the bathroom when Kevin came by. Whether it was taking a piss, losing the contents of his stomach, or shooting up, Sean didn't know. What he did know was that Jimmy had been asking Kevin's whereabouts only moments before, and not out of custom concern. He gave Kevin a know-it-all look.

"Jimmy's mad at you."

"Don't you have school?"

"Day off."

"Oh." Kevin didn't question the response as he slid into the same barstool Jimmy had occupied. He fingered the almost empty mug. "Mind your business, Sean."

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing. Is it the two thousand?"

"No, Sean."

"Then what?"

"Nothing. Stop asking me questions."

"Then tell me something."

Kevin let out a frustrated breath and said nothing. He twisted in his seat as the door to the bathroom jiggled open. He hesitated a second, seeing the look Jimmy aimed at him, and then, "Hi, Jimmy."

"You screwed up, Kevin."

"Jimmy, look." Kevin gave a small shrug. "I just—"

"Screwed up, I know." The tone was flat. Jimmy shook his head. He glanced at Sean, rethinking his words. "Kevin, downstairs a second. Seany, stay here." Neither looked pleased. "What, am I not speaking English?'

Sean muttered something under his breath as Kevin reluctantly got to his feet.

Down in the basement storeroom, Kevin shifted his feet uncertainly as he watched Jimmy dig around behind some make-shift cement block shelves. "Look, Jimmy, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I just heard sirens and it just kinda… I don't know. I don't know what happened."

Jimmy wasn't saying anything.

"What do I do with it now?"

"You deliver it and get the money, genius." Jimmy found what he was looking for. He straightened up and held out the gun to Kevin. The younger stared at it, raising his eyebrows unsurely. He made no move to touch it.

"What's that for?"

"If anything goes down."

"You said nothing was."

"Look, Kevin. If you can't handle it…"

"No, I can do it." Kevin took the gun. He studied it less than a second and then tucked it into the back of his pants.

"Are you sure, Kevin? I'd hate to see you get spooked by an ambulance or something."

Kevin frowned at him; he didn't like the sarcasm. "I can do it, Jimmy."

"Then do it. Get something right. I talked to them and they should still cut you some kind of deal. I don't know how much, but it should be something." Jimmy gave a smirk and started back toward the stairs. "After yesterday, you're lucky they're not burying you behind some dumpster."

Kevin hung back, watching Jimmy's slow ascent up the creaky wooden stairs, the metal of the gun still feeling cold against his back. Lucky. There were different degrees of being lucky.

Upstairs, Jimmy felt like he was still buzzed from the night before. Sean had taken off, which didn't surprise him, and he was giving his almost empty mug a critical eye.

His headache needed something a little stronger.

--

"_Seany, you stay here."_

"_Why do I have to stay?"_

"_Because we need a lookout," Jimmy said. He pointed to the curb. "You can see everything from here. Yell if you see anything."_

"_But Kevin can be lookout," Sean complained._

"_No, I'm not. I'm not lookout." Kevin glared at Sean, and then pulled at Jimmy's arm. "Jimmy, I'm not the lookout."_

_Jimmy rolled his eyes and shook him off. "Stop whining; you're coming with me. Sean, man the curb."_

_They had been planning it since yesterday. A couple blocks from home, the bicycle was just sitting there in the courtyard between two apartment buildings, free of any lock or chain. It was asking to be taken. All they had to do was lift it over the gate._

"_But I'm stronger than him," Sean continued. "We arm wrestled yesterday and I won."_

"_You cheated." Kevin tried to shove him, but Sean sidestepped it. _

"_No, you cheated. You didn't keep your elbow down. And I still won. Right, Jimmy? You have to keep your elbow down."_

"_Jimmy, I'm not the lookout. I'm coming with you." Kevin was beginning to pout._

_Jimmy was beginning to feel like punching one of his little brothers in the face. There were reasons he preferred Tommy for things like this. He rolled his eyes. "Seany. Stay here. Kevin, come on."_

_Sean kicked the curb with a scuffed sneaker, not missing Kevin's grin at the small victory. He was always the lookout. Sean was sick of it. He was just as big as Kevin, and could run faster than him even. What was the deal?_

_Sean let out a huff. If he couldn't be part of it in a big way, he didn't want to be part of it at all. With a glare at his brothers' backs, he abandoned the curb and started home. _

_Over at the scene of the impending crime, the courtyard gate was padlocked shut. _

"_Can you unlock it?" _

"_I don't need to unlock it, I'm just gonna climb over and lift the bike over to you. Okay?" As Jimmy did just that, his heart pounded ever so slightly. There it was. Blue, and the perfect size for the four of them. He grabbed the bicycle between the handlebars and under the seat. It was more awkward than heavy. He gently lifted it over the gate and started to lower it down._

"_You have it?"A whisper._

_Kevin's head bobbed up and down as a yes. _

"_You sure?"_

"_Yes," Kevin affirmed. But when Jimmy let go, the weight and size of it caught the younger boy off guard and the bicycle clattered loudly to the pavement._

"_Kevin," Jimmy hissed. He swore the clamor could be heard all the way down the block. _

_Kevin gave him an apologetic shrug and backed away from the gate so that Jimmy could scramble back over. "What else is back there?"_

"_We gotta go. C'mon," Jimmy said, up righting the bike and starting to walk it out to the street. Someone had to have heard that. He scanned the block for Sean. "Kevin, c'mon. You wanna get caught or what?"_

_But they didn't get caught. Jimmy was proud. Kevin felt invincible. That was the day the Donnelly brothers had the blue bicycle. It only lasted until that night, when someone else stole it. _

_This annoyed Kevin to no end, because in his mind the bike was rightfully theirs. Sean was more sad than angry. He had only gotten to ride it two and a half turns. Tommy shrugged it off. It hadn't been theirs to begin with anyway. And Jimmy could care less. He had gotten the rush from stealing it. Not from riding it._

_Besides, it was free of any lock or chain. It was asking to be taken._

--

Tommy had to be sitting in the kitchen. Kevin halted in his direct path to the freezer when he noticed this. Sure, it was the only place with a decent sized table in the apartment, and he was sketching something, but all the same.

"Tommy?"

"What, buddy." Tommy didn't look up from what he was doing. This was good. Maybe he wouldn't look up at all. That would be better.

But no, he was looking up now, folding up whatever he was doing. He moved to the sink to rinse his lead stained hands. When he finished up and started drying his hands on a kitchen towel, he saw Kevin retrieving something from the freezer.

"Kevin."

"Yeah, Tommy."

"What is that?"

Freezer door shut. Paper bag into jacket. "What's what?"

"Kevin."

"It's a bag."

"I can see that, Kevin, thanks."

"Then why're you asking?" Kevin pulled his jacket closed tighter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I thought I told you to get that out of here."

"Did you?"

"Kevin."

"I am getting it out of here. Look, Tommy, all I gotta do is drop it off and deliver the money." Kevin turned away, his arms still crossed over his chest, but soon regretted it when he felt the back of his jacket yanked up. He twisted away, but Tommy had his arm.

"Did Jimmy give you that?"

Kevin pulled back. "Aw, relax, Tommy."

"This is great, Kevin. Just great." Tommy shoved him against the counter, confiscating the gun with a hard push to Kevin's back. "You walk into there, wearing a gun, what do you think is going to happen?"

"Get off, Tommy." Kevin pulled away, twisting back around to face him. He glared. "You didn't need to do that."

"You want to get yourself killed?"

Kevin just glared.

"They see you with a gun, they kill you, Kevin."

"All I have to do it drop it off and get the money. Jimmy said nothing is going down."

"Then you don't need this, do ya?"

Kevin just shrugged. He knew he wasn't getting it back.

"What time is the dropoff?"

"Three." Kevin let out a reluctant breath.

Tommy looked at the clock. "We better get moving then, huh."

"We?"

"Yeah, Kevin. We."

Kevin frowned, but he wasn't about to argue.

--


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter 5**

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update!! I really appreciate the comments so far. You guys are awesome and the feedback really helps. I'm really sad that there is only one episode left of this season, so this is my escape from that reality. This chapter is as random as the rest, so thanks for sticking with me. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

The grey and steely afternoon made for a damp chillness in the air, and Kevin found himself pulling his jacket collar up as they approached the apartment.

The first drop had gone fine. Gave in the bag, got another bag in return, presumably with the money. He didn't check.

The apartment to which he was bringing the money was on the second floor of an old brownstone. The man inside was wearing a dark leather jacket over a black t-shirt, dress pants, and expensive leather shoes. This guy had money. "You packing?" was the first question. "A gun?"

Kevin shook his head. "No. No gun." Tommy was the one packing. Outside. In the hallway. There was the certain degree of security knowing that Tommy was less than a hundred feet away, but Kevin's stomach was still twisting into knots.

"This is all of it?" The man opened the bag and gazed in it for a moment. "You open this bag?"

"No."

He looked Kevin up and down slowly. A smirk turned over his lips. "How do I know?"

"Know what?"

"That you didn't open it. That you didn't take some."

"Because I didn't," Kevin said slowly.

"How can you prove that? Prove that you don't owe me say, several grand."

"Count it?"

The man chuckled. "Count it, he says. You expect me to count this."

Kevin just stared at him. He didn't like this guy.

"C'mon now," the man continued. "Are you serious?"

Kevin frowned at him, growing defensive. "Yeah, I'm serious. Count it, man. I didn't take any."

The man watched him for a second and then turned the bag upside down. Kevin caught a glimpse of what looked to be pale Monopoly money floating down from it, but before he could open his mouth a gun pressed hard against his forehead.

"Where's the money?" the man demanded.

"Hey, man, I don't know." Kevin's heart thudded in his chest. He was going to have a heart attack. A real, live, honest to God heart attack. "I just took the bag and brought it to you, just like you said."

The answer left the man unfazed. The cold barrel dug into his skin. "Try again. Where is it?"

Kevin cursed under his breath. He couldn't think when he was nervous. He couldn't talk. He couldn't move. That was it. He had to move.

He twisted away and the gun went off, narrowly missing his temple. The guy came at him, and Kevin shoved a chair in his direction.

Another gun shot rang out.

There was a sudden quiet. Silence.

He touched his face and came away with some blood.

It took Kevin a minute to realize he hadn't been the one shot. The jerk laid there now, blood pooling around his leather jacket onto the linoleum floor. Tommy stood in the shadow of the doorway. Kevin stared at him and then at the money on the floor.

"Damn."

"You okay?" Tommy's voice was soft.

Kevin looked back at the lifeless eyes staring up from the floor. His answer took a moment. "Yeah."

Tommy tried to gather his thoughts. The man was dead. By his hands. A killer. But it was self defense. Kevin's defense.

"Tommy—"

"Let's go. Come on."

Kevin nudged the body of the man with his foot, as though making sure. "He's dead, Tommy." He took a step back and stared at his brother. Tommy said nothing. "He can't pay me now," Kevin continued. His voice was edgy, tinged with complaint.

"He wasn't going to pay you, Kevin." Tommy's words came slowly.

It was sinking in. Kevin wiped his hand on his pants, frowning. No money. The whole thing. For nothing.

"We need to go." Tommy still lingered in the doorway. If he was nervous it didn't show. He was nervous. "Kevin."

"What about the body?"

Tommy shook his head as Kevin's blue eyes turned on him. Eyes that were ready to follow him anywhere.

"We leave it," Tommy said.

There was an old janitor's closet on the first floor of the brownstone and Tommy stopped there, trying the door. Unlocked. He felt around the small room and his fingers brushed a knotted pull string. An old bare light bulb flickered on when it was pulled.

Kevin tried to see around him. "What're you looking for?"

"A sink. You walk outta here with blood on your face, it'll draw attention."

The tiny space was crowded with liquid containers and aerosol cans, and it smelled of ammonia. Buckets with dried up rags crowded the limited foot room in front of an old mildewed sink. Kevin watched as Tommy twisted one of the rusted knobs on the faucet. It screeched a high-pitched objection before a heavy gush of water thundered into the old basin sink.

"Go," Tommy said over the din.

"It's ice, Tommy."

"Kevin."

"I'm just saying." Kevin touched the water again and tried turning the other knob. Scalding hot. He screwed it back a half-turn. Ice. A quarter turn the other way. Scalding.

Tommy was losing patience. Chances were, someone had heard the shot. It wouldn't be long before someone would come to investigate.

"Kevin," he said sharply.

"Just a second."

"I swear to God, Kevin—"

"Alright, alright. Jeez. You don't have to be such a bully about it."

--

At the Firecracker, Jimmy was asleep at the dimly lit bar. A radio on the pool table was playing a mixture of static and classic rock. Jimmy's snoring faded in and out.

"Leave him," Tommy started, but Kevin was already pushing at Jimmy's shoulder.

"Hey, Jimmy. Hey... Hey." Kevin hesitated a moment when his brother remained still despite the shaking. He glanced at Tommy, but Tommy wasn't watching. He was behind the bar, slipping the gun into one of the drawers. Kevin tried again. "Jim-my. Jimmy."

"He's passed out, Kevin."

"Jimmy." Kevin punched his shoulder. Hard.

Jimmy stirred. Slightly.

"Jimmy," Kevin said loudly. "Hey."

"Wha."

"Hi, Jimmy."

Jimmy squinted at him. "What'd'ya want?"

"Bastards set me up," Kevin said. The more he though about it, the more he was pissed. They had played him to be dumb.

Jimmy was rolling his shoulder. "Dammit," he grumbled. But he wasn't hearing Kevin's words. He rubbed his face roughly, grimacing. "What time is it?"

"Jimmy. They set me up."

As Jimmy tried to process the words in his murky head, he noticed Tommy behind the bar for the first time. He frowned at him. Tommy looked removed, apart. His face was stony. Kevin glanced at him too.

"What's wrong with you?" Jimmy said. "You look like you just killed a guy."

There was an awkward silence. Kevin cleared his throat. Tommy sent him a look.

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "What is this. You did?"

Tommy just stared at him.

Jimmy grinned and started to chuckle. To his mind, through his fogged state, this was funny. "Tell me you did, Tommy."

"Jimmy. Shut up." Tommy's voice was icy. He came back around the bar. Jimmy having knowledge of the event could be the beginning of a list of people with knowledge. He wanted to keep that from happening. But Kevin, Kevin was already explaining. Kevin trusted.

"Kevin," he interrupted. "Enough."

"Tommy, he knew them," Kevin reasoned.

"No, not really," Jimmy said.

"I thought you said you knew them." Kevin sounded surprised.

Jimmy shrugged. "Knew of them."

Kevin glanced at Tommy, then back at Jimmy. "I say we go back, and force them to give us the money. Bring some guns. Send a message."

Tommy rubbed his face. "A message? What kinda message, Kevin?"

"I don't know." Kevin gave a frustrated shrug. "I don't care. They have it coming."

Tommy watched him a moment, lips pressed in a thin line. Kevin had a vindictive streak that tended to blind any sense there was in his head. He had a need to make things fair. To even the score. "That's smart," Tommy said evenly. "Real smart, Kevin. Go back and let them finish the job."

"That's not the point, Tommy."

"The point is that we don't know these guys. It's not our money. We should just drop it." Tommy looked at Jimmy pointedly, hoping he would back him on that.

Jimmy was shaking his head, letting it sink in. "Man. I knew they were really pissed about yesterday." He chuckled.

"You knew," Tommy repeated slowly. "You knew they were pissed. And you were sending him in there?"

"Please, Tommy. I gave him a gun."

"You gave him a gun."

Kevin watched him uncertainly. Tommy had that pressed-lip, clenched-jaw look on his face. "Tommy, stop repeating what he says."

"Be quiet, Kevin."

Kevin let out an annoyed breath. He was tired of orders. All he ever got were orders. He moved to go behind the bar, turning his back on them for a second, and missed the first punch.

He didn't know who threw it, or what was said to provoke it. But that was the thing; it didn't matter. While Sean might have hesitated to come between them, Kevin was stepping in the middle of the scuffle before he had time to even think about it, pulling them apart the best he could.

"Stop. Guys, stop." He pulled Jimmy back first, holding up a hand to Tommy with a pleading look. He looked back to Jimmy. "Jimmy, come on."

"Get off, Kevin." Jimmy pushed him aside with a scowl. He glared at Tommy, feeling a surge of anger inside of him. His fist was clenched at his side and if Kevin weren't gripping his shirt he would have been swinging.

Tommy just wiped his lip with the back of his hand. He looked calm, but his eyes betrayed him.

Kevin looked between the two of them. The radio crackled in the back, the only noise in the bar. After a moment, Jimmy shoved his arm away and limped off to the bathroom.

Kevin's eyes fell to Tommy, but Tommy straightened his jacket and left without a word.

* * *

**I was going to add in a flashback and then didn't... Maybe I'll stick it in next time:) Sorry you waited so long for so little.  
**

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6**

* * *

There was something therapeutic about the combination of cartoons and cereal.

Tommy and Jimmy had seemed to outgrown it years ago, their limited time at home spent on other things, but for Kevin and Sean it was some kind of fixture. It gave them peace and a comfort of familiarity. It was a semblance of childhood that hung by a thread.

They had seen all the shows that had played so far that evening—most of the cartoons they watched these days were repeats. They watched anyway.

Sean was mostly watching Kevin out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't said a word since he had come home over an hour ago. That was weird.

Finally Sean had to say something.

"Jimmy told me it went bad."

Kevin glanced at him. Gave a shrug. "What else did Jimmy say?"

Sean returned the shrug.

Kevin frowned. There was always the question of how much Sean really knew.

He had been thinking it over, and the more he thought about it, the more he figured that he had to do something. It bothered him too much to let it lie. It wasn't revenge, or vindication. He just needed to show them that he wasn't able to be played like that.

And he would get the money. Because if he didn't have the money by the end of the week, there was going to be a problem.

"I'm going back."

"Back?" Sean repeated.

"To get the money."

"Stealing from drug dealers. That sounds smart, Kevin." Sean said the words and then regretted them. That wasn't his plan. "I'll help," he said quickly.

Kevin stared at him. Hesitated.

Sean didn't miss the look, and he immediately got defensive. He was tired of this. He was never included. He could be the go-to guy for once. He was capable. "Come on, Kevin. Are Jimmy and Tommy gonna help you?"

Kevin said nothing, but he look said it all. No, they weren't. If anything, they would be against the idea. Tommy already was. Kevin gave a half-hearted shrug.

"So c'mon," Sean pressed.

He could use backup.

"Kevin, c'mon."

"I guess."

Sean wasn't expecting this. Not so quickly. Sure, it wasn't an enthusiastic agreement by any means, but all the same. "Yeah? Okay?"

Kevin nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, obviously still thinking about it. He pointed at Sean with his spoon. "But what I say goes."

Sean rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

There was a moment of silence. On the TV, Jerry hit Tom with a hammer three times.

"So do you have a plan?"

"Yeah, I have a plan."

"You have a plan," Sean repeated doubtfully. Kevin's plans were not usually the best thought out.

Kevin nodded, his eyes suddenly brighter. He gave his brother a smile. He did have a plan. "Yeah. I saw it on TV. We just need a pizza."

--

Kevin stood in front of the door, pizza box balanced on top of the gun, which he held horizontally. He knocked.

Nothing.

"Pizza," he said loudly, glancing at Sean next to him. The lights were on inside. Someone had to be home. He knocked again.

He heard a thump from inside. Somebody was coming. There was an eye at the peephole. A brown eye. He stepped back slightly so that whoever it was could see the pizza box.

The door opened. A guy. A big guy. He was wearing a white t-shirt, slacks, and blue socks. A woman appeared behind him. She was giving them a curious look. "We didn't order a pizza…"

And the guy saw the gun, at least the barrel of it. His eyes widened, and his hand went for something, and Kevin—heart pumping—pulled the trigger.

He missed.

The woman screamed and ran back to another room. A second later she reappeared, holding a knife, waving it wildly. She didn't look afraid. She looked pissed.

The man looked surprised but quickly recovered. He dove for a table not far from the door and grabbed for something in the drawer. Kevin saw the gun but before he could react it seemed to explode in the guy's hand and the doorway next to his head splintered.

Sean let out a muttered curse as the slashing woman swung the knife at him and caught his arm. He pushed her away with a hiss and she tripped backwards over something, off balance from her swinging arcs with the knife, falling to the floor.

Kevin got off another shot, shattering a vase about a foot from the guy as a bullet punched through the drywall near his head.

This was not his plan.

They had to get out of there.

They ran. Down the corridor, into the stairwell, and down the stairs. They were two flights down when they heard somebody, a man, shout, "Hey, hey!" but they kept going. They hurried down the street, walking fast and trying not to catch anyone's eye.

Kevin was cursing under his breath. Not good, not good, not good. Damn it.

At what point during that whole situation was he supposed to demand the money? That had to have been the worst plan ever.

Damn it.

Four blocks down, Sean was feeling a little off. He could feel a strange tightness in his arm from the slash. And pain. When he touched his sleeve, he felt something wet.

"Kevin."

"What?" Kevin turned back to look at him. His stomach did a slight flip flop. Sean was holding his arm funny. "You're hurt?

"A cut…" There was no visible blood—Sean was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt. But when he pulled up the sleeve, Kevin winced.

They stared at each other a moment, trying to catch a breath, hearts exploding in their chests.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, Kev, it feels great."

"You don't have to be sarcastic, Seany."

Sean gave him a look.

"Sorry." And he was sorry. About all of it.

"I think I need to get it sewed up."

Kevin couldn't disagree. But how would they explain a slashed arm? He rubbed his face tiredly. Weren't stab wounds one of the things they had to report at the ER? And speaking of reporting.

"Ma is gonna find out," he said, voice catching a little. Ma was going to skin him alive. If Tommy and Jimmy didn't first.

Sean was thinking the same thing. They needed an explanation.

They stared at each other for a minute.

"Okay," Sean said finally. He took a slow breath. "I was washing the back windows at the bar and I broke one and got cut on it. And we didn't think it was bad so we didn't get it checked right away."

Kevin nodded slowly.

That sounded believable. Almost.

--

_Sean was wailing now. _

_They needed an explanation._

"_Shut up," Kevin hissed. "Seany. Seany. Shut up."_

_But it was bleeding a lot, the slice in Sean's palm, and blood was a scary thing. Kevin's hands were shaking as he pressed a thin washcloth on the wound. "Stop moving."_

"_Owww."_

"_Shut up," Kevin whispered, holding his brother's arm tightly. _

_The tear-filled blue eyes glared at him. "It hurts."_

_Kevin gave a helpless little shrug._

"_It hurts," Sean cried again._

_There was a soft knocking on the door and Kevin jumped, jerking his hand tightly. Sean's crying hitched up a notch and Kevin gave him an anxious look. _

"_What happened?" Tommy was pushing open the bathroom door in response to the crying he had heard from the kitchen. He saw two blond heads hunched together on the floor and at first he couldn't tell who the injured one was. Or what the injury was._

_Then he saw the bloody washcloth in Kevin's hand and the tears streaming down Sean's face. That was a lot of blood._

"_What happened?" he demanded, his tone more forceful this time._

"_My hand," Sean whimpered. _

_Tommy squeezed into the room but the bathroom was really too small for him to see with the two of them on the ground. It was too crowded to get a good look._

"_You gotta move, Kevin." _

_He wasn't moving._

"_Kevin." Tommy grabbed the younger boy under the arms, hoisting him up and out of the bathroom none too gently. But as Tommy moved into the newly freed up space, Kevin crowded back in behind him, still clutching the small towel._

_Tommy took one look at Sean's hand and gave the injury a critical frown. Sean was watching his face anxiously for a response. _

"_Is it bad?" he asked in a small voice._

"_You might need stitches."_

_Sean shook his head quickly. Stitches? "No… no, I won't."_

"_I really think so, Seany."_

_Kevin frowned. Stitches were for bad things. They also meant a hospital. He leaned into Tommy as Sean gave another small whimper._

"_Don't want stitches," Sean was saying._

_Tommy didn't answer; he was pulling him to his feet. "How did it happen?"_

_No answer._

"_How did it happen?"_

_Sean was too busy crying, and Tommy turned his eye to Kevin, who offered something incomprehensible about breaking something in the alley. Tommy frowned at him, an eyebrow raised. Kevin gave a small shrug._

"_Smashing bottles in the alley?"_

_Another tiny shrug._

_Tommy gave him a hard look. Just last week Sean and Kevin had been caught doing the same thing by a cop driving by, who politely informed them that if he saw them doing it again there would be hell to pay. Ma had threatened their hides when she found out. _

"_Do you know what Ma is gonna do to you?"_

"_Tommy. Tommy. Don't tell."_

"_Kevin. He needs stitches. At the hospital." Tommy was holding onto the sniffling Sean's arm. "Who do you think is taking you there?"_

"_I don't want stitches," Sean interrupted._

"_You don't have a choice, Seany."  
_

"_We can tape it," Kevin said. "Dad has duct tape."_

_Tommy frowned at his younger brother. "Duct tape, Kevin?"_

_Without him, they were dead ducks._

_It was Tommy, who took it upon himself to be involved, who later explained it to their mother. They had been playing baseball, and Sean had gone to retrieve the ball._

_He blamed it on a broken window._

--


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter 7**

* * *

The waiting room in the emergency room wasn't crowded, but it was noisy. A woman with three screaming kids all under the age of five took up the floor and chairs on the far right, underneath some kind of abstract pastel painting. On the other side was a couple who was screaming their own conversation to make up for their elderly ears.

Kevin dropped himself in one of the hard plastic chairs somewhere in the middle of the two competing sides, letting out a long breath as he tried to tune them out. This was where Tommy found him almost half an hour later. It was late then, past eleven, and Kevin was slouched over, somehow asleep amongst the din of the small room.

Tommy looked amused for a small second. A very small second. "Kevin." He pushed at his brother's shoulder. "Hey."

Kevin jerked awake, brow furrowed in sleepy confusion. It was still loud. He sat up straighter. He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he had shut his eyes.

"Did Sean call you?" He was almost relieved to see Tommy. Kevin had never been good at being alone.

"He needed the insurance card. You want to tell me how his arm got like that?"

Kevin struggled a second. "A window?"

"You asking me or telling me, Kevin?"

"Telling."

Tommy watched his face, nodding after a moment. "A window," he repeated.

"Cleaning it. At the bar." Kevin hated how direct Tommy's gaze could be. He shifted in the uncomfortable green plastic chair. His back hurt.

"Which window?"

"A back one."

Tommy pressed his lips together in a fine line. He didn't speak for a minute. Then, "Where's your cell phone?"

Kevin dug it out of his jacket pocket and offered it to him. Tommy didn't take it.

"Call Jimmy," Tommy said.

Hesitation. "Why?"

"Ask him about the window." Tommy's gaze was steady. "I wanna see if you're lying to me."

"Tommy."

"Just do it, Kevin."

There was a pause. He could fake the call. But no. Kevin shoved the phone back in his jacket. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Tommy a look that said, Are you happy now?

Tommy knew. He knew Kevin had gone back to the apartment. He had known he would. This just fit too well.

Kevin glanced at the screaming kids and then back to his brother. He already was angry at himself for how things had turned out and Tommy's inquisition was just making it worse.

"I went back with Sean," he said. "To get my money."

"It's not your money."

"Doesn't matter, Tommy, that's not the point." Kevin gave him a frustrated look. "They had it coming."

"So you went back. To get the money." Tommy lowered his voice, noticing that the elderly woman kept glancing in their direction. "Did you get the money?"

"No."

"No money. And Sean got knifed."

Kevin frowned. Knifed sounded awful. He wasn't knifed. "He got cut. This crazy lady. She was swinging this knife around."

"I would imagine, Kevin, if you went in there swinging a gun around."

"I wasn't swinging it around."

Tommy just raised his eyebrows.

"Look, Tommy. I've been thinking. If you, me, and Jimmy go back—"

"Kevin."

"Come on, Tommy."

"You're not serious."

Kevin gave a small, half shrug.

But that was the thing. Kevin wanted approval. The go-ahead. And Tommy didn't want to give him any reason to go back. "You have two choices, Kevin. Go back to the Firecracker and get rid of the gun, or stay here with Sean and give it to me."

"That sucks, Tommy."

"Decide."

"Jimmy'll go with me." The second the words left his mouth, Kevin regretted them. But they were already said, and he couldn't take them back. The look on Tommy's face could kill and Kevin was suddenly thankful for the other loud individuals in the waiting room. Witnesses.

Still, Kevin was never more relieved to see Sean than when he walked out from the green curtained-off ER area just that moment. He jumped to his feet and away from Tommy's hard gaze.

Sean sensed something. He looked back and forth between them.

"You alright?" Tommy asked, not given him time to question the obvious tension.

Sean shrugged, glancing down at the stark white bandage on his arm. He looked pale, but he pulled his sweatshirt sleeve down over it and gave a small smile. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Kevin, go home with Sean."

"I'm not babysitting," Kevin said indignantly. He frowned at Tommy. "Where are you going?"

Tommy shot him a look. If anything, Sean was the one babysitting. He knew Kevin wouldn't leave him behind just to go back a second time.

"Just do it, Kevin."

Truth was, Frankie Stein had called the Firecracker to ask Tommy about Sean and Kevin's whereabouts after a man and woman in a certain apartment had called to report a robbery. An armed robbery. Apparently the suspects happened to match Kevin and Sean's description. To a tee. They were willing to ID anyone picked up.

"I'd rather go with you."

"Well Frankie has a police report matching the two of you. You wanna be arrested, Kevin?"

"No."

"Then go home. Lay low."

"We will," Sean interrupted. His arm hurt and all he wanted to do was go home. Tommy and Kevin could be at a standstill for who knew how long. "C'mon, Kevin." He pulled at Kevin's arm but Kevin shook him off. "Come on," he repeated.

"I'm _com_ing."

The elderly woman watching them shook her head as they left.

--

The phone rang. Again.

The sound was shrill and Jimmy knocked it off the hook as he was picking it up. He recovered it and held it to his ear. "Firecracker."

The voice asked for Kevin.

"Not here…" A long pause. "Yeah. I'll tell 'im."

Jimmy hung up the phone long enough to get dial tone and then lifted it back up and dialed Kevin. This was getting to be too much. His brother picked up after the fourth ring with a 'Hi Jimmy' but Jimmy didn't exchange any greeting.

"Who the hell is it you owe money to this time, Kevin?"

There was hesitation over the line. "What?"

"Someone keeps calling here, asking for you."

"Who?"

"I'm asking you that, dimwit."

"Don't call me that." A pause. "What do they say?"

"To tell you they called. And something about Friday." There was a long silence on the phone. Long enough for Jimmy to crack himself open another beer and gaze at his two customers. Two men, at least in their fifties. Drinking Scotch. Killer night. "Kevin."

"I'm here." Kevin paused in the climb up the last flight of stairs home. He waved Sean on ahead, but Sean hung back, smirking. Kevin rolled his eyes.

"I'm just sayin'," Jimmy said. "You always owe people something, but they usually don't leave you messages all the time like this." There was a pause, and any sense of worry that might have tinged Jimmy's words disappeared in his next statement. "It's annoying."

"Relax, Jimmy."

Jimmy muttered something.

"I'll fix it, Jimmy."

"Yeah, you're real good at fixing things."

"I'll fix it."

Sean watched as Kevin flipped the phone closed with an aggravated look. He chuckled and Kevin shot him a look.

"Everyone's pissed at you," Sean said. This amused him. "Everyone but like, me."

"Shut up."

"It's true."

"Ma's not pissed at me."

Kevin took that back as soon as they walked through the door.

"Where have you been?" Helen Donnelly was sitting in the corner chair with what was probably a cold cup of tea and an annoyed look on her face. Helen was not a woman you wanted annoyed.

"Nowhere," Kevin said. Sean glanced at him with a 'Tread carefully' look.

"Nowhere? Until one in the morning?"

Kevin shrugged, eyebrows raised innocently.

"And what the matter with you?" She gave Sean a critical look. He looked pale. Drawn. Something was wrong.

"Nothing, ma," Sean said, already inching toward the hall.

"You have school tomorrow."

"I know, I know. It's fine." He knew better than to argue.

She glowered at the two of them. "Go to bed."

Sean was already gone, but Kevin stood his ground. "Ma. You can't tell me to go to bed."

"Kevin." Her voice was sharp as a razor.

He tried to match her gaze for a second but then quickly followed after Sean .

-­-

"_I'm coming with you." Kevin stood with his hands on his hips, blocking the doorway as best as he could. _

"_No, you're not." Jimmy didn't even look at him. He shook a can of spray paint, the little metal ball in side rattling. He loaded it into a backpack. "You're staying home."_

"_I can come."_

"_No," came the impatient response. "You can't."_

"_I can. Tell me what you're doing."_

_Tommy pushed Kevin away from the doorway. "Stay home with Seany."_

"_I wanna come too," Sean piped up. But used to being left out, he had already given up and was lying in bed, tossing a baseball up and down. _

"_I'll be lookout," Kevin said. Desperate. _

"_Joey's gonna be lookout." _

"_I'll tell." It was a lie._

"_You're gonna get a smack." Jimmy looked at him finally and raised his eyebrows. He got a pout in return. "Is that what you want?"_

_Silent now, Kevin went back to blocking the doorway. Tommy pushed him aside again as they finished loading up the backpack._

_Kevin looked back and forth between them. They were both wearing baseball caps._

_Jimmy rested a hand on Kevin's head as they left the room. "You'll slow us down," were his parting words. _

_But that was the thing; you couldn't keep the four of them separate for long. Kevin waited until he heard the front door of the apartment slam and then pulled a baseball cap over his own mop of hair. "I'm following," he told Sean._

_If that was the case—Sean dropped his ball, which hit the wood floor with a hard knock as he rolled off the bed. "Me too."_

"_Hurry."_

_They waited outside their apartment door until Jimmy and Tommy's footsteps could no longer be heard in the stairwell, then they clattered down the stairs after them. _

"_Where are they going?"  
_

"_Dunno."_

_The back brick wall of the school building had become some kind of childlike graffiti war zone. And of course if someone at school did something considered daring, like spray paint their initials on the back wall of the school, then Jimmy had to one up them._

_Of course, the cops had become privy to the fact that kids were doing such things, and had included it on their driving patrols. _

_Which was why, after having only completely one big red 'J' on the brick face, Tommy and Jimmy heard a loud "Hey!" and saw a patrol car with its front window rolled down across the alley way, parked in the street near the basketball courts. _

_From the side of the lot, behind a chain link fence, Joey was whistling and waving his hands around. _

"_Thanks, Joey," Jimmy muttered under his breath. _

_Tommy pulled his baseball cap down further and frantically looked around for an exit. The burly cop had gotten out of his car and was starting to jog toward them, yelling something._

_Jimmy was shaking the paint can as though he were still going to finish the initials and when Tommy saw this he knocked it from his hand. "Jimmy," he hissed. _

_Sean and Kevin had reached Joey's position by that time and saw the cop just as he was getting out of his vehicle._

"_You're the distraction." Kevin pushed at Joey's arm anxiously as the cop started to cross the lot. He was a better lookout than Joey, wasn't it obvious now? "Where's the distraction?"_

"_Yeah, where's the distraction?" Sean echoed._

"_Easy, guys. I don't know," Joey said with a wide-eyed look. "Hey. The car."_

_Kevin and Sean looked toward the street. _

"_It's on?"_

_Sure enough, the cop had left his patrol car idling. It would be enough for a distraction._

"_Honk the horn," Sean said quickly. "And run."_

"_Better…" Kevin said. "Drive it away."_

"_Kevin, that's like a crime." Sean pushed his arm, his heart beating in his chest._

"_I'm gonna go with honking as the good idea here," Joey offered._

"_Fine."_

"_Hurry."_

They darted to the car. Even though the window was open, they had to open the door to really reach the steering wheel and lay on the horn.

_The officer froze mid-stride, spinning on his heels. Three young boys were crowded in the opened door of his patrol car. For the love of Christ. _

_Executive decision._

"_HEY," he hollered, jogging back toward his vehicle. Enraged. They were giggling, for Chrissakes, and when he caught them he was going to—_

_The horn blew long and loud, blocking his thoughts. Except for one. He spun back around. _

_The older boys were nowhere to be seen. He scanned the lot._

"_Son of a—"_

_There was a sharp toot of the horn and then silence. Except for the thudding of sneakers on the pavement. He spun around and saw nothing. The door of the patrol car was shut. By the time he reached his car, he didn't even know where to look. _

_Damn kids. _

_He hated them, especially the ones in this neighborhood._

_--  
_

* * *

**A/N: Absurd flashback, I know. Sorry for the wait!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter 8**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews... I don't know if I would still be writing without you guys. I'm so glad you like this randomness. I hope to be updating more frequently. But don't worry, I won't drag it out forever.  
**

* * *

Sean woke with a start from a nightmare he couldn't remember. It was early morning, a time still dark outside, and he lay there a moment, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He slowly propped himself up in his bunk, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips as though trying to erase the unknown images inside his mind. 

His arm ached and he lay there, willing sleep to come back. But it wouldn't. He gave up.

Kevin was watching television inside, the volume muted and the lights off, shadows and lights dancing off the walls from the screen. His chin rested on his fist.

Sean sank into the other side of the couch and Kevin lifted his head only a second.

They didn't say anything. Neither were strangers to bad dreams.

--

Sean's high school career was aimed at the gutter. He made it to school that morning. He just didn't stay. He did, however, make it to the Firecracker.

At the bar, Jimmy was taking it upon himself to get Kevin out of his mess. Sean didn't know if that was a good idea, because sometimes Jimmy wanted control of the situation more than he wanted actually to help. But Kevin was running out of options.

Jimmy was rubbing the side of his unshaven chin. "You need the money by when?"

"Friday."

"Which is tomorrow," Sean added.

Kevin shot him a look.

"Okay. So Friday," Jimmy said.

"Yeah..." Kevin ran his finger along the top of his mug, not looking at Jimmy. "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else I lose something."

"Lose something?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow and took a swallow of his beer. "Like what?"

Kevin shrugged.

"Come on. Like what," Jimmy said. He wasn't questioning this time.

"I don't know. A toe."

"A toe?" Jimmy started laughing. He could always laugh at someone else's expense. Even his brother's. "A toe, Kevin? Who the hell are these people?"

A half-hearted, one shouldered shrug was all Kevin could muster. He stared at his half-empty mug. He was screwed.

"You don't need all your toes anyway, Kevin."

Kevin spun in his seat, giving Sean a look to kill. "I'm gonna punch you in the face, Seany."

"Alright," Jimmy said and tugged the back of Kevin's shirt. He drained the last drops in his own glass and slapped the top of the bar as he got to his feet.

"Come on."

"Where?" Kevin gave him a curious look and glanced at Sean, who was frowning.

"Seany, watch the bar." Sean's frown deepened at this. Jimmy made his way to the door. "Come on, Kevin."

"Where are we _going_?"

"We're going shopping. Let's go."

--

By shopping, Jimmy meant returning merchandise. And by returning merchandise, he meant picking up something from a shelf on his way to the customer service counter.

"I can't lie like that, Jimmy," Kevin said when they were out of earshot from the service representative. He had just watched his brother successfully exchange a set of steak knives he had never paid for to begin with. Forty-five dollars.

"You lie all the time. This isn't any different."

"I don't."

"You just did." Jimmy grinned.

"Jimmy..." Kevin complaint trailed off.

"Do you have another idea, genius?" Jimmy pushed at his arm, none too gently, and Kevin gave him a dirty look. "Relax, Kevin, will ya? Jesus Christ. I used to do this all the time."

"We need to return bigger stuff."

"Only stuff under than fifty without a receipt."

"I need two thousand dollars, Jimmy. _Thousand_."

"Hey," Jimmy threw up his hands. "This is all I got right now. Take it or leave it."

Kevin didn't answer. He would take whatever he could get.

--

"Reason for return?"

The girl didn't even look up from cracking her gum as she said it. She was examining the shoes, as if they were ruined or defective in some way. They couldn't have been. They had never been worn. They had probably never been tried on. And they still had tags. They even still had that annoying tissue paper stuffed tightly in them. Kevin was losing patience with every second of her scrutiny. He didn't have a lot of patience when he was nervous.

"I don't want them anymore."

"Reason?"

"Because I don't want them."

She looked up finally. She had blue eyes. And nice makeup. "Reason," she repeated. She wasn't nice. She said it as though he were mentally challenged or  
something.

"They don't… fit."

"Alright." She scribbled something down on a piece of paper and gave him a triumphant smile as though to say, See, that wasn't so hard, was it? "Would you like to exchange them for another size?"

"No."

"No?"

"Look, I just don't want them. I just want my money back." He sent her his own little smile. Is it so hard?

"How about store credit?"

"How about no," Kevin said. Good Lord. Jimmy had exchanged the knives in less than five minutes. What was with this girl? "Just the money."

The girl forced a smile now, obviously summoning up any last patience. "Look. We don't give money back for returns without a receipt. Exchanges or store credit only."

"Well, I don't want the shoes. And I don't want to buy anything else. I just want the money."

"I'm sorry."

Kevin frowned at her, silently seething. "You're sorry?" He was going to make her sorry.

"How about a gift card?" she said sweetly.

Kevin placed his palms on the counter, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice. "How about we just pretend I have the receipt, and you give me my money?"

The sales girl was growing uncomfortable, it was obvious. But she pressed another smile at him and kept her tone calm. "We can pretend I call security."

Kevin paused as though thinking about that option, but then submitted with a frown.

"A gift card will be fine."

--

Seventy three dollars, fifty-two cents, and two gift cards later, Kevin returned to the Firecracker less than victorious. Jimmy and Tommy were there, and Jimmy slid him a wad of cash over the bar.

"Four hundred," he said.

Kevin took the money but frowned as he stuffed it into his pocket. How the hell did Jimmy manage that? And he was giving it to him too; he could have easily held back and used it for his next fix.

Tommy was eyeing them critically, but Kevin wouldn't make eye contact and Jimmy seemed unfazed. Tommy wouldn't leave it at that. "That's a lotta money. How'd you get all that money, Jimmy?"

"Commercialism." Jimmy slid a beer toward Kevin and grinned broadly.

"Jimmy."

"Relax, Tommy. At least I didn't kill somebody to get it."

Kevin ignored them as they argued, their words going right through him. He stared at the beer in front of him and curled his toes in his shoes. All ten of them.  
He was never playing pool again.

"What if we steal a car," he said suddenly. That would be the rest of the money.

The heated conversation stopped.

Kevin looked expectantly at his brothers, pleased with his idea, but they were both silent.

"A car," Tommy repeated finally. "And how're you gonna do that, Kevin, hm? Whose car are ya gonna steal?"

Kevin glanced at Jimmy for aid, expecting his backing, but it wasn't there. His eyes went back to Tommy, who was giving him an expectant look.

"I don't know yet, Tommy."

"And once you bust a window and hotwire a car, who're you gonna sell it to?"

"I don't know yet. Parts. We can sell it for parts. Jimmy, remember Joey's uncle. You took that piece of crap there one time and you sold it for parts."

"Almost got pinched that time, Kev." Jimmy laughed. "Not again."

"Nice to see you learn from your mistakes, Jimmy." Sarcasm.

"No mistake, Tommy. The mistake was going through Joey's uncle."

Tommy just frowned at him. He was so thick.

"So we'll go somewhere else."

"You do it, Kevin, and I'm turning you in myself." Tommy gave him a hard look.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah, stop making lousy bets with people."

Kevin glared at him. "Tommy," he said with a tone of complaint in his voice. But Tommy was unmoved. He made it sound so easy. Stop making bets. That was it. Make a bet. Kevin felt the money in his pocket and looked up at them. "If I take this to the track—"

"You bet the money I just gave you and I'll punch you in the face, Kevin, I swear to God. You can just give it back."

"But I could double it."

Jimmy knew the look on his face. The excited, hopeful, I-can't-lose look that Kevin got right before he made every dumb decision. "Kevin."

"Jimmy. Did you see who's runnin' today? It's almost a guarantee."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

Jimmy pushed him hard in the shoulder. Kevin betting his own money was one thing. Betting the money he had earned, or rather, had gotten, was different.

"Don't be a dummy. Gimme the money."

"Jimmy, come on."

"You bet it, you're dead."

"Jimmy."

Jimmy pushed him again, making Kevin get up off the barstool to his feet. Tommy grabbed Kevin's shirt as he went to go shove Jimmy in return, holding him back. Neither one of them had any patience. "Kevin. Relax."

"Get off, Tommy." Kevin twisted away from him.

Tommy let go and looked at Jimmy. "Kevin's not gonna do anything with the money. He's not an idiot." He gave Kevin a pointed look. "So don't act like  
one."

It was a dirty look he got in return.

"Oh stop," Tommy said. "What, you're pissed at me?"

Kevin didn't answer. He was pissed at both of them. For no reason. He was more pissed at himself and any impending toe injuries. He got up to leave.

"If I hear about you at the track, Ill cut off all your toes myself."

"I get it, Jimmy."

Jimmy called after him again. "And tell Sean, next time he leaves my bar unlocked, I'll kill 'im."

--

_It was Tommy who jerked awake, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room. The sun was just coming up through the window. _

_He could remember his nightmare. He had been flying a plane. Everyone was on it… Jimmy, Kevin, Sean, Ma. He couldn't remember if his dad was on it. This bothered him._

_He was the one flying it, and it was going down, crashing into the ocean. There were sharks swimming around, waiting, circling. Everyone was screaming._

"_You were screaming."_

_Tommy twisted around. Jimmy was awake and watching him from his own bed. Tommy didn't say anything._

"_You okay?"_

_It was the same dream._

"_Yeah." _

_Tommy had been having a lot of nightmares since his father had died, only no one knew. It wasn't like Sean and Kevin, who took turns almost nightly with their bad dreams and wound up sleeping in Ma's bed or on the floor in Tommy and Jimmy's room. Tommy kept those things to himself._

_Jimmy knew this. He knew Tommy didn't want comfort._

_They stared at each for a minute. _

"_Go back to bed, Tommy."_

_Tommy's heart had slowed down to its normal rhythm and he lowered himself back down in bed. _

_The nights could be long._  
_--_


	9. Chapter 9

** Chapter 9**

* * *

**A/N: I was a lot later than I promised on this one-- so sorry for the delay. Thank you so much for the reviews, they really keep me going. You guys are the best.  
**

* * *

Helen Donnelly was making dinner when Tommy came home that night, and he hadn't realized he was hungry until the smell of pork chops in the frying pan reached his nose.

Kevin was in the kitchen with their mother, sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, or at least pretending to. He was jiggling his leg back and forth as though he wasn't sure what to do with himself. All jittery. He raised his head when Tommy slid into the chair across from him.

"Is Sean with you?" he asked softly.

But Helen was asking the same thing, in a much less secretive volume, and Tommy gave Kevin a quick frown before answering his mother.

"No, Ma. Why?"

"Kevin said he was with you." Her tone was hard.

A quick look aimed back at Kevin, who shrugged and focused on lifting the newspaper back up.

Tommy pushed it back down.

"Don't look at _me_, Tommy. How do I know where he is?"

"I got a call from Sister Jean," their mother continued. Her voice was edgy. "He wasn't in any of his classes today."

Kevin muttered some comment about Sean never being in his classes anyway and Helen sent him a look that could cut glass.

"Kevin Donnelly. Do you want to eat tonight?"

The newspaper went back up.

Tommy looked back at his mother. "Did you call his cell phone?"

Her eyes went back to Kevin. Tommy pulled the newspaper away this time, which incited a glare.

"Kevin, you call him?"

"Yeah. His phone's turned off."

"Did you leave a message?"

"He never listens to his messages."

"Well call him back and leave one." Tommy's voice was slow and even.

"I don't see why I have to be the one to call him," Kevin said. "You can call him too, it's not that hard."

Tommy ignored the complaint. His mother was looking at him with the expression that killed him. The look that said it all—she trusted him to be the one to take care of it, to fix whatever it was, to reign in his brothers.

"He'll be fine," Tommy said.

He had never denied the look.

--

_It was a miserably hot day for a street fair. Kevin was clutching the three dollars that Jimmy had given him as he and Sean stood face to face, both of their chins raised stubbornly. _

_It looked seconds away from becoming physical. The man in the small ice cream stand had never seen such strife caused by two kids trying to agree on an ice cream. He was giving them a patient smile but he was also looking past their tousled heads for some kind of guardian. He didn't find one._

"_Hey. Fellas. C'mon. There's gotta be something you both like."_

_The pouts he got in return answered that question. There was a line starting behind the two. _

"_How much you got?"_

"_One…" Kevin uncrumpled the bills one by one, laying them out in front of the man. "Two. Three." He looked up at the man unsurely. "Three dollars."_

_The man flashed him a smile. "Well why didn't you say so?" _

_Kevin gave him a curious look._

"_That's enough for two ice creams."_

"_Jimmy said it'd be enough for one," Sean said suspiciously. Kevin elbowed him hard. Sean glared and pushed back._

"_C'mon now, no fighting." These kids. " What do ya want?"_

"_I want that one." Sean pointed to the picture of the chocolate éclair ice cream. The man dug one out of the freezer for him and then looked at the other boy._

_Kevin studied the laminated menu on the side of the stand one more time and then pointed to a King Cone._

_Tension abated. _

_Only a little later, measured by half a melted ice cream and a meandered block from the vendor, two older men in a rush to be somewhere bumped into Sean and didn't even stop. The remainder of his chocolate éclair flopped to the sidewalk. _

_Kevin glared after the men, but they were gone. When he looked back at Sean, the younger boy had an expression that either meant he was about to punch someone in the face or burst into tears._

_It was leaning toward the latter._

"_Don't be a baby, Seany." _

_Sean glared at Kevin. The heat was making them both cross._

"_You were almost done anyway." Kevin sucked on a dripping part of his own cone. _

"_I wasn't!"_

"_You were."_

"_Wasn't."_

"_If you cry, you're a baby." A glare. Kevin held out his own to his brother. "Do you want some of mine?" _

_Sean hit it to the ground grumpily. _

"_Sean!" _

"_I don't want yours!" _

_Frustrated, Kevin shoved him as hard as he could, almost knocking him to the ground, and stomped away. _

_He didn't mean to leave him; he only meant to storm away for a second, but when he turned back around, the crowd had already filled in the space between them. He didn't think anything of it; he weaved between a couple families. Scanned the people around them._

_No Sean. _

_The two ice cream fatalities were there, inches from each other on the pavement, but no Sean._

_Kevin stood there a second, sucking in on his lower lip. Stupid, stupid Sean. He kicked at the curb. _

--

"Hey, Tommy?"

"Yeah." Tommy looked up from the dish that he was drying. Kevin wasn't even pretending to help anymore. "Why don't you help ma out a little, hm?"

"Because you are," Kevin said. "Look, I don't think Seany is just out and about." It was later, almost ten, and Sean still wasn't home. His phone was still off. And Ma was no happy camper.

"Something you wanna tell me?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"You're being paranoid, Kevin."

"No, I'm not. It's just that... I don't know. I'm just saying."

"You're either being paranoid or you're not telling me something. Which one is it?"

"Tommy."

"Which one?" Tommy waited for an answer, but it wasn't coming. His expression changed, as though suddenly something had clicked. He put the dish down, hard enough to make cracking it a concern. "Kevin. Does this have something to do with the money you owe?"

"No," came the too quick response. A weak shrug. "I don't know."

"Kevin!"

"I don't know, Tommy. I just..." Kevin looked sorry. He couldn't really remember all the details of the night that got him into this.

Tommy was losing patience. "I'm going to kill you, Kevin."

"They made threats, I think, but I had until tomorrow."

"You think." Tommy gave him an incredulous look. "You think, Kevin?"

Kevin couldn't say anything. Tommy wasn't thinking of other places Sean could be. Tommy was thinking this was a reality.

Damn.

--

_Tommy was sitting on the stoop of their apartment building with Jenny. She was on the upper stoop, he was on the lower. They were both drinking lemonade. Conversation was slow. _

_Tommy saw Kevin coming first and knew from the petulant look on his face that something was up. He squinted at him in the sun._

"_Hi," Tommy tried._

_Kevin didn't answer. He just glared at him._

"_Where's Seany?"  
_

_Kevin shrugged. _

"_What does that mean?"_

_Another shrug. Kevin noticed Jenny for the first time and ducked his head, kicking at the stoop._

"_Kevin."_

"_I don't care where he is."_

"I thought you were with him."

"_Not anymore," Kevin said, looking up. "Besides, he's mean and I hope he doesn't come back." He sank onto the stoop next to Tommy and reached for the lemonade. Tommy held it away._

"_He's mean," Tommy repeated._

"_Yes," Kevin said, giving him a look. "Tommy, I want some too."_

"_Ma wants us home for dinner in a half hour," Tommy said. He still held the drink back. "Who is she gonna blame if Sean isn't there?"_

_In truth, the answer would be him. Or Jimmy. But Kevin was afraid to get in trouble._

"_Come on," Tommy said finally. He got up from the stoop and gave Jenny an apologetic look. She smiled back at him. She knew how it went. "We'll find him."_

--

The phone was ringing.

Jimmy groaned, running a hand across his face. He frowned. His hand was wet. His beer had spilled next to him on the pool table where he found himself draped. He shook it out, squinting at the ceiling.

Ringing.

Son of a bitch.

Ringing.

"Answer it," he muttered aloud to no one. It kept ringing. He didn't have an answering machine at the Firecracker. Who needed an answering machine at a bar?

With a muttered curse, Jimmy rolled off the pool table to unsteady feet, hobbled over to the phone, and pulled the cord out of the wall.

Silence.

With a satisfied smile, Jimmy collapsed back onto the billiards table and closed his eyes.

--


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter 10**

* * *

Tommy was the one that gave the promise to Ma. He said Sean was only at the bar and that they would send him home.

He knew it would only be a temporary ease of nerves. She always worried the most about Sean—he was the youngest, the baby, and she looked over him like a suspicious mother hen. It had always been this way and Tommy felt bad about giving her false information. But that was the thing about a lie. Sometimes you have to tell one before you come up with something better.

"Still busy," Kevin said. It was a colder night and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he flipped of his cell phone, hunching his shoulders slightly against the wind. He kept calling the Firecracker to try and get a hold of Jimmy, but all he got was a busy tone. He didn't get it.

Tommy didn't answer him. Tommy wasn't saying much.

"It's busy," Kevin repeated.

"I heard you," was the short response.

The bar was unlocked and lit when they got there, the lights on inside. But seemingly empty. Ahead of his brother, Kevin did a quick once through of the room and then headed to the back. As he clattered loudly down the stairs to the basement, Tommy noted the dirty mugs and shot glasses scattered around the place and shook his head. There were days he wondered how Jimmy managed to keep the place open. He slipped behind the bar and noticed the unplugged phone against the wall. He pushed the cord back into the jack, frowning.

Kevin was coming back up, his footsteps on the return not as quick as the ones on the way down. "No Jimmy." Obvious statement.

Tommy said nothing. He was thinking. His thoughts were jumbled. But he was mostly trying to convince himself that he shouldn't be worried. What were the chances that something had happened, even with Kevin owing that much money. So he didn't know where Sean and Jimmy were—that was fine. They were big boys.

But something inside of him made it impossible not to be bothered. He didn't like not having a location for everyone.

"His wallet's here." Kevin had joined him and had pulled said object out from under the bar top. He was starting to rifle through it absently. "Hey, Tommy, he's got a couple hundred—"

"Put it back, Kevin."

Kevin raised his head, an insulted look on his face. "Tommy." He shook his head at his brother. "I wasn't gonna take anything."

"So put it back."

"I wouldn't do that, Tommy..." But he tossed the wallet back into the drawer that he found it in. He waited for Tommy to be saying something, only he had a distracted look on his face. Kevin sighed and started to pull out some beers.

"What are you doing?" Tommy finally spoke.

"Helps me think."

"Is that so…" There was a hint of sarcasm in Tommy's response but he also didn't refuse the brew he was given. He twisted off the top and took a swallow. "Alright, Kevin. Let's sort this out. What's the name of this bar where you made so many good decisions?"

Kevin gave him a long look. "You don't have to be sarcastic."

"I'm sorry. What's the name of the bar?"

"Bailey's."

"And I'm guessing that whoever it is owns Bailey's."

A nod. Kevin took a swallow of beer. He knew where this was headed.

It was where they were going to have to go. Which is what Tommy said next. But Kevin was hesitating on that.

Tommy noticed. "Say it, Kevin."

A long pause. Then, "We can't just show up there, Tommy. I can't go without the money… They'll kill me. That's how it works. Money, and you're okay. No money, you're not okay."

Tommy thought it was amazing how well Kevin seemed to understand that, yet he always wound up on the wrong side of the equation.

"I have the money," he said.

Kevin frowned. "How?"

Tommy just shook his head.

"How do you have it?

"Don't worry about that."

Kevin was feeling bad. He would almost rather lose a toe than take the money. "I could have helped."

"Forget it."

Kevin was going to press further, but it was then that the door to the front of the Firecracker was pushed open. And there stood Sean.

No worse for wear.

Kevin stared at him for a second, and then the relief washed over him. He grinned. "Oh man. Is Ma pissed at you."

"Where were you?" Tommy voice was hard.

"Out..."

"With who?"

A shrug. Sean pulled up a stool to the bar. He started to rethink that decision when he had both of them looking straight at him.

Tommy shook his head. "You have Ma a wreck at home, Seany."

Sean felt bad, but he also became annoyed. "That's the thing. I can't stand it, Tommy, she freaks out with every little move I make. It's driving me crazy. I'm late for dinner and she's ready to kill me."

"It's past eleven, Sean. It's a little past dinner."

"You know what I mean."

Tommy's face didn't convey any sympathy. Or patience.

"What?" He glanced at Kevin, who was suddenly busy playing with the telephone, and then back at Tommy. "What, were you worried too or something?"

Why did no one trust him to be okay?

"You need to go home." The look on Tommy's face was one that you wouldn't mess with unless you wanted to be hurt.

"Is Ma asleep?"

"I don't know, Sean, you're gonna have to find that out yourself."

The carefree look on Sean's face was no longer. "Are you coming?"

"Not right now, no."

Sean gave him a long look. Tommy was getting tired of getting that look from them. It wasn't going to work. "Don't, Sean. Go home."

The youngest looked frustrated. "I'm moving out," he said. He couldn't take it. Maybe then they'd realize he could take care of himself. "I'm serious this time."

"Maybe you are. Not tonight though. Go home."

There was nothing more to argue, and a silence filled the bar after Sean left. It was like a heavy weight had lifted, but something still hung in the air. A tension, thick and obtrusive.

Tommy took a long swallow of his beer. He felt like getting drunk. Calling Jenny, using it as an excuse. But it was late. And he was too used to wanting things that he convinced himself he couldn't have. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and gazed at his brother. "You can go home too, Kevin."

"I'm okay."

"It's late. Go home."

"What about Jimmy?"

"If something's wrong with Jimmy, then it's probably something Jimmy got himself into," Tommy said. "Which is something you don't need to get caught up in."

"But he could need us."

"If he got himself in it, he can get himself out of it."

"Tommy."

"You're assuming anything is wrong, Kevin. What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"The bar was unlocked." Kevin frowned at him. "What?"

"Maybe Jimmy just got drunk, decided to go out, and didn't lock up. What about that? It wouldn't be the first time."

They stared at each other a second. Kevin's gaze hardened.

"That's a possibility, Kevin, isn't it?"

"But something could be wrong, Tommy, don't be a dick."

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as though to say, is that a challenge?

"Come on, Tommy." Kevin didn't know what to say, but he was starting to get pissed. Tommy was all worried when it was Sean missing, but when it came to Jimmy now he didn't seem to care. That wasn't right, even if they were still pissed at each other.

"I'm done, Kevin. Count me out." Tommy tipped back his beer again and finished it. He set it down on the bar, frustrated. No more. He was done. Out. Kevin didn't have to like it.

And he didn't. Still unsure of what to say, Kevin let emotion take over. The emotion he had felt building up all night, ever since the moment Ma started her questions about where Sean was, her tone implying that he should know, ever since this whole thing started. As Tommy rounded the corner of the bar, Kevin set down his beer bottle, balled up his fist, then turned and swung at Tommy with all the strength he had.

His arm whiffed in a wide arc. He missed Tommy by a mile, since Tommy saw it coming, and Kevin felt like a batter who guessed at a fastball and got fooled by a tricky changeup. They scuffled for a second and Kevin wasn't ready for the reaction, which was a punch to the face. It caught him in a mouth.

Tommy felt bad; it was far from the first time he'd slugged his brother—they had always been physical—but he always felt bad, even though he usually wasn't the one who started it. Kevin always gave him the same expression afterwards, just like he was now. It was a look of surprise, with this little sorry/sad look mixed in. Tommy hated that look.

Kevin held a hand to his mouth for only a second and then he pushed past Tommy roughly.

Tommy almost followed him out into the street. But he let him go, knowing Kevin didn't want to talk to him. The only reason he had to go out there was to make himself feel better about it. They had nothing to say. Not now.

Tommy let out a long breath and rubbed his face again, hesitating only a moment before grabbing another beer. He twisted the cap off and sank onto a bar stool.

--

_Tommy was getting frustrated in the search for Sean. He was tired, it was hot, and Kevin had finished the rest of his lemonade. It was only a couple minutes until when they had to be back for dinner and Tommy was pretty much resigning himself to the fact that they had to go home._

_He held out as long as they could, but then Kevin had to pee and the search was over. So home they went. As they trudged up the few flights to their apartment, Tommy tried to think of how to put it lightly. _

_We lost Sean. No._

_Misplaced maybe. We misplaced Sean. _

_That didn't work. He wasn't an object, he was a little boy._

_Maybe they could blame him instead. Sean ran away. That sounded okay._

_No. She wouldn't believe them._

_Tommy let out a sigh as they entered the apartment. They found Ma sitting in the family room. _

_Jimmy and Sean were with her._

_Tommy frowned, annoyed now. _

"_Where have the two of ya been?" Helen asked. "Tommy, it's dinner time."_

"_Sorry, Ma," he said. The annoyance quickly passed and Tommy was relieved now. Sean wasn't kidnapped, or missing, or anything. He was sucking on a Popsicle, sitting next to their mother, as content as could be. It was fine. _

_Kevin's mind was on other things, like how it wasn't fair that Sean had ruined his ice cream earlier and now was having a Popsicle. He frowned at this._

"_I want a popsicle," he said, looking to his mother hopefully, but she shook her head._

"_No, darlin', it's time for dinner."_

_Sean stuck out his tongue and Kevin got annoyed. He responded to the taunt by knocking the half eaten Popsicle out of the younger's hand. It bounced to the carpet and his mother slapped at him, connecting with the back of his leg._

"_Kevin," she admonished sharply. He pouted at her, but it did no good. "You can go set the table," she said, pointing at the kitchen. _

_Sean gave him a smug little smile, but Helen looked him next._

"_And you can clean that up," she said, giving him a nudge up from the couch. "Hurry up now, before it stains."_

_Tommy sank into the worn green chair. Things were back to normal. _

_--_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for picking on Kevin!**

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Thanks so much for the comments. I want to especially thank WishfulWriting for the support and Zero-Divide, for convincing me to try my hand at bringing an important person into the story. I hope you enjoy.  
**

* * *

Jimmy could only open his eyes to a squint, even in the dim lighting. The ground was hard and unfamiliar yet as he stretched out his legs he half expected to find himself on the floor of Joanie's apartment. Only he wasn't. The ground beneath him was cold and almost damp, not like the wood floor in her place, and as he stretched out he came in contact with nothing. He was alone.

He was alone, and he was tied up.

"Son of a bitch."

Jimmy didn't have a lot of patience, and it didn't take him long to move from confusion to rage. If there was one thing he craved, one thing he needed, it was control. He was more often losing it than attaining it but here, in this dark and unknown room, duct tape bound around his wrists and boots, he didn't even have a choice.

--

Tommy's decision was to put an end to it.

He knew where. He had the money. And after being led to the back office at Bailey's Pub, he now knew who. A fat, smug Italian man who looked at you as though you were his next scrap of meat. Tommy wanted to kill him.

"So this is done," Tommy said. Money, and no pleasantries, had been exchanged.

The man smiled, a crooked thin-lipped smile that feigned patience. Who was this kid, who came in his brother's place, exuding this calm and a confidence—control, even—that was beyond his years. At him. Throwing it in his face. He rubbed a hand across his chin, looking back at this kid with a cool gaze.

"This time."

A slight shake of the head. "It's done," Tommy said. There wasn't going to be a next time. "No more phone calls, no more threats."

A motion near the door caught his eye. A man that looked like he could have been this one's brother, but skinnier, lingered in the doorway, then with a nod from his boss, came in and whispered something in the big man's ear.

A puzzled, then satisfied look crossed the heavier man's face as the other exited the room. Something about it didn't sit right for Tommy, but he chalked it up to being annoyed with the whole situation.

When the cool gaze landed back on Tommy, the pleased expression was gone as soon as it had come.

"It's done," the owner agreed. And Tommy didn't question.

--

It seemed, sometimes, that Kevin tried his best not to think things through.

"Get out of the car."

She was an average middle class, fake Gucci bag toting woman and she panicked at first, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel of the car, caught off-guard by the young man who had slipped himself into her passenger seat.

Kevin's own heart was beating several times faster than normal, but he moved his hand under his jacket, feigning a gun, and repeated his request.

She was hesitating. Her eyes darted to the backseat.

Kevin noticed the little boy. The kid couldn't have been more than six and was staring at him in horror. He was beginning to change his mind, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach with those huge brown eyes staring at him, but the mother hadn't noticed and was already out of her seat and reaching to the boy, hurrying him out of his seatbelt. It was too late to turn back.

"Danny, get out of the car." Her voice was hoarse, strained in the effort to stay calm for her young son.

In an instant she was gone and Joey was in the driver's seat. It seemed like he was taking forever and the car was just sitting there; she could be calling the cops. Kevin prodded his arm.

"Joey. Drive."

"She's got a picture of Mary in the cup holder."

"Joey."

"The Virgin Mary is watching us, Kevin."

"Joey!"

Joey shook his head at Kevin. "This is serious, Kevin. Just wait a second, I need to—"

"I'm gonna hit you, Joey." Kevin was nervous now. This was taking too long. He had stolen a car from a mother and her young son, and now the Mother of God was watching his every move. He jiggled his leg nervously and gave his friend a glare.

"Okay, okay."

"Jesus, Joey," Kevin muttered, watching as Joey did a quick sign of the cross and put the car into drive. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face with his hands. His cell began to ring.

Kevin looked down at the caller ID. It was Tommy. He didn't want to talk to Tommy.

"You gonna answer that?"

"No." Kevin shook his head and flipped the phone off.

Joey gave him a quizzical look, his eyebrows raised.

"It's no one. Just drive."

--

_Jimmy was less than pleasant in the weeks following his leg injury. He didn't handle being confined to bed well, and that was the initial doctor's orders. Limited movement of the limb so that his shattered bones could mend a little after the surgery. _

_It was driving him crazy._

"_You're driving me crazy," he told Sean and Kevin._

_Neither seemed bothered by this statement. It was raining, which was doing nothing to alleviate the heat of summer, and since they couldn't play outside Ma had requested the two try and keep their bedridden brother entertained._

_Not that they hadn't been doing the same on the sunny days that they could be outside. They were, for lack of better words, making him crazy. But Helen Donnelly was no dummy. If Jimmy was being driven crazy by his little brothers, he wouldn't be so quickly growing bitter about his situation. She saw it beginning; the twinkle in his eye replaced by an intermittent flash of something else, something darker, and knew that once it resided in him it would always be there._

"_Jimmy, c'mon." _

_They were siting there on Tommy's bed, looking at him expectantly. Tweedle dumb and Tweedle dumber. Tommy, for some reason, had been keeping his distance, and Jimmy was starting to feel hurt by his absence. He could use Tommy._

_Sean had tossed him the plastic basketball and was pointing to the crooked net hanging above the bedroom door as if it were a novel game they hadn't been trying to get him to play for the past ten minutes. _

"_Jimmy," Sean repeated. "C'mon, Jimmy." He pulled his feet up on the bed, ready to catch any missed tosses. _

"_Throw," Kevin urged when Sean's request went unanswered. He was half on the bed and half off of it now, as though he were ready to come over and somehow physically make Jimmy comply. _

_Part of Jimmy wished he would. There was nothing he would like more than to get his hands on one of them. Instead, he gave his tormentors a hard look and tossed the ball into the open closet._

"_Hey," Sean objected, frowning at his brother. Jimmy's leg, bandaged and braced, looked three times as big as a leg should under the blanket._

_Kevin shot Jimmy his own glare as he slid the rest of the way off the bed and went to retrieve the misdirected ball. As he ran back with it he bumped into his father coming through the doorway. Tommy was trailing behind him. _

_Bobby Donnelly caught his younger son and hoisted him up sideways. With a serious expression, he said, "I need someone strong. Are you strong?" His voice took on a solemn tone he often used to tease his sons._

"_Yes," came the giggled answer._

"_How strong?"_

"_The strongest!"_

"_I'm stronger," Sean argued, jumping off the bed._

"_Well then I need you too," Bobby answered, lowering Kevin back to his feet. He sent Jimmy a wink and disappeared through the doorway, Sean and Kevin on his heels._

_Tommy lingered in the doorway. "How ya feeling?" he asked finally._

_Jimmy gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Okay."_

_There was a pause as Tommy struggled for something else to say. He leaned against the doorframe, scuffing his foot against the floor. "Ma said the doc told her you could put weight on it in a couple weeks," he tried._

"_Yeah," was all Jimmy said. A couple weeks. A couple weeks seemed like a lifetime to him. A couple weeks and summer would almost be over._

_Tommy was saved from making further fumbles of conversation by his father and brothers' return. They were wheeling in the small television from the family room, although how much help Sean and Kevin were could be up for debate._

"_I heard there's a baseball game on tonight," Bobby said as he positioned the TV in the narrow space in front of the beds. He glanced at Jimmy and saw he was getting the reaction he wanted. There was the hint of a smile on the boy's face. _

"_We can watch in here?" Sean's face lit up._

"_We can watch in here," his father said. "Grab a seat, any seat." He finished plugging in the television and straightened up. "Tommy, c'mon. Pick a spot."_

_Tommy moved into the room as his father flipped the TV on. The sound of commercials filled the room. He took a spot on his bed and Kevin immediately clambered in next to him. _

_Bobby pulled a chair in between the two beds and dropped a hand on his oldest son's shoulder for a second. "How's my trooper?"_

_Jimmy's response was a shrug._

_Bobby nodded slowly and then let out a breath. He adjusted the chair and then took a seat, pulling Sean to him gently. The game was about to start._

"_Boys, listen. Just because you're hurt, or on the bench, it doesn't mean you're out of the game." All four pairs of eyes rested on him. "Look at Mattingly," he continued, referring to the injured baseball player. He gave Sean's chest a pat. "Does Mattingly give up?"_

_Sean shook his head._

"_Exactly. It's about having the right attitude. And Donnelly men aren't quitters." Bobby looked at his son square in the eye. Jimmy had a fighting nature. You didn't push Jimmy without expecting a push back. He needed to keep that fight, especially now. "Right, Jimmy?"_

"_Right," Jimmy echoed. But he was having a hard time believing it himself._

_The discussion with their father was cut short, however, and Bobby never finished making the point he wanted. The phone in the kitchen rang, and he was already rising before Helen even called out from inside, voice edgy and reluctant, that it was for him._

_The call took him away. Less than a minute on the phone and Bobby was readying to leave, pausing in the boys' room only a moment to tell them he would be back later. _

_Hearing the tense but hushed voices that often accompanied his father's abrupt departures, Tommy slipped from his seat and hung in the doorway of the bedroom. As he leaned against the doorframe, he struggled to hear the exchange but only caught the last word. _

"_Bobby." It was a warning tone in her voice and she was giving him that look. The icy, I-dare-you-to-leave look. __Tommy felt something tighten in his chest when he saw it._

_But his father was leaving then, the door closing gently behind him, and Tommy watched his mother as she just stood there, motionless, her eyes raised slightly to the ceiling as though asking God for guidance. _

_Helen turned and saw her son in the doorway. When she caught his eye and sent him a smile, Tommy found something unsettling. He realized that due to so many years of practice, it didn't even look forced._

_--_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Patience was a virtue, or so his mother had always told him. Jimmy had always been the one with the quick temper, even before the accident. Quick to judge, quick to snap. Quick not to think. He needed to think.

He needed a cigarette. And a shot of whiskey.

He could hear faint voices upstairs. Footsteps. Creaking. But his wrists were almost free. Whoever had bound him didn't really think it through, as he wasn't tied _to_ anything. It still wasn't an easy task, rubbing the tape against the sharpest thing he could find—a broken pipe—but it was coming. Slowly.

The door rattled and Jimmy straightened up, holding his hands straight out on his lap. Calm. But defensive. A skinny Italian stood in the doorway.

"Don't worry," the man said with an easy smirk. "Your brother is on the way with the money."

"The money," Jimmy repeated.

"The money he owes."

Jimmy's cloudy mind registered. The money. Son of a bitch. He was going to kill Kevin. No. He was going to kill this guy. Jimmy stared at him and watched as the man flexed his fingers, leaning against the doorway. A skinny punk who liked to think he was in charge. And he was Italian.

"Not for nothing," Jimmy said, "but who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"A lacky, huh? You could have just said so."

The skinny man's eyes shot daggers at him. He moved threateningly into the room and Jimmy rolled his eyes. If he were able to, he could down this guy in one punch. _If_ he were able to. Instead the man saw the cocky look and the next thing he did was kick Jimmy in the side.

Jimmy hissed, but held back the string of expletives that would usually be tied with the pain he was felt from the kick. He gave the guy a smug grin instead.

"Feel better?"

It was the wrong answer. The man kicked him again and this time Jimmy fell onto his side. He held back the words on his tongue and stayed down instead.

"I do now," the man said. "By the way." He paused in the doorway. "Don't you and your brothers talk?"

Jimmy stared at him.

"'Cause one already brought us the money, and now another one is bringing more. So we figure we'll hold on to you a little longer." A laugh followed the words and Jimmy tightened his fists as the door clattered closed.

Son of a bitch.

--

"_Come on, Jimmy." _

_Jimmy was more mobile now, but had to wear a brace on his leg. Walking was a challenge. It hurt, a lot, more than he let on at times, and even though Tommy had come out of hiding and was playing the role of super supporter, it still didn't have Jimmy wanting to get out of bed every day. _

"_Jimmy." Tommy had always been a more serious child than the rest of them, but lately he was like a different person. Jimmy wasn't sure what to make of it. "How's it gonna get stronger?"_

"_It's not, Tommy."_

_But Tommy's eyes were begging him to get up. _

"_Tommy." Jimmy let out a frustrated breath of air. He hated it. He hated the brace. He hated his leg. He hated the support he was getting. _

"_Jimmy, come on."_

_He wanted to say no. To tell Tommy to go away. But Tommy looked desperate, so intent, and so he allowed himself to be helped up to his feet, grimacing the whole way. _

_They struggled to the kitchen and when they got there Jimmy sank into a chair tiredly. What used to be a two second dash had turned into a ten minute ordeal. Tommy pulled another chair out from the table for Jimmy to put his leg up on._

_Sean was watching from another kitchen chair and eyeing the brace on Jimmy's leg curiously. "Maybe your new leg will be even stronger, Jimmy."_

"_It's not a new leg, Seany."  
_

"_Like Terminator."_

"_It's the same damn leg, Sean."_

_Sean looked a little hurt at Jimmy's tone and Tommy sent him a small smile, as if to say, 'It's okay, he doesn't mean it'. But Sean still pouted. He shifted in his chair and rested his chin on his hand. He looked tired. They were all tired._

_Tommy sat in a chair on the other side of the table. He had to distract Jimmy. That was the word his mother had used. Distract Jimmy from his pain. "Hey Jimmy, want to play cards?"_

"_No."_

"_Watch TV?"_

"_No."_

"_We can walk outside."_

"_I'm not going outside, Tommy." Jimmy gave him a hard look. He didn't want people to see him like this. _

_Distracting Jimmy was harder than it might seem. Tommy was running out of ideas when he heard the front door open and the sound of paper grocery bags crinkling. He leaned back in his chair and turned his eyes to the door as Kevin came barreling through with a plastic bag in one hand. Tommy immediately realized his poor positioning of Jimmy's leg when his younger brother's path included knocking into the chair supporting it.  
_

_Jimmy let out a hiss. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. He glared at Kevin, who retreated quickly out of Jimmy's reach, behind Tommy's chair. Tommy pulled the grocery bag out of his hand. _

"_Jimmy Donnelly." His mother had entered the kitchen with her own armful of groceries, just in time to hear the expletive._

"_Sorry, Ma."_

"_What's a bitch?" Kevin whispered his question to Tommy, but Helen's eyes shot to him warningly. Kevin shut his mouth. When her back turned, he nudged his brother but Tommy shook his head._

"_Good to see someone out of their room," Helen continued, giving Jimmy a pointed look. She didn't stop for a response. "Tommy, there's one more bag at the foot of the stairs, can you get it?"_

_Tommy nodded and slid off of his chair to retrieve the last grocery bag for his mother. When he returned she was starting to fix dinner and Jimmy was beginning to move his leg off the chair, the grimace back on his face._

"_Kevin, I swear, if you come closer…"_

"_I can help."_

"_You can't."_

"_Yeah, Kevin, you can't," Sean echoed. He poked at Kevin, twisting in his seat. _

_Kevin balled up his fist and held it in front of Sean's face, something he had picked up recently from Jimmy. It looked threatening when Jimmy did it. Kevin's version didn't. Sean stuck out his tongue in response._

"_Tommy." Jimmy grabbed his brother's arm as Tommy lowered the bag of groceries onto the table. "Help me out?"_

"_Yeah." It was the first time Jimmy was really asking for help. Tommy pushed Kevin's hand out of Sean's face and then helped Jimmy slowly get to his feet. _

"_Back to our room?" Tommy asked. Jimmy had been acting like a recluse lately, spending most of his time in their room, by himself. Or sneaking cigarettes in the bathroom. _

_But this time Jimmy shook his head._

"_No," he said. "Inside."_

_None of them saw the small smile that passed over Helen's face._

--

Kevin was late to Bailey's, and he knew it. Getting the money from the car took longer than he thought, but he had it, and without any major issues, knock on wood.

What he wasn't expecting was the scene he found inside the back office of the pub. The big man was there, of course. But so was Jimmy.

"Christ. You're late, Kevin."

Kevin stared, hesitant. It was Jimmy in charge of the situation, gun pointed at the fat man's head.

"Jimmy," he started.

"Put your money away and find some duct tape. I have a little favor to return."

"What are you—"

"Kevin."

The fat man's eyes were burning holes through him. But Kevin focused on Jimmy instead.

When Jimmy started binding the man's wrists, Kevin went along with it, holding the gun Jimmy handed to him and pointing it at the heavyset man. Kevin then watched as Jimmy rummaged through the man's desk and came up with another wad of money.

"You're nothing," Jimmy told the man. He pushed Kevin to the door, turning back to face the desk. "You think you're shit because you own a bar? I own a bar."

The fat man glared, face turning red with anger, but he couldn't answer. Jimmy had taped his mouth.

"If there's a next time I'll kill you too," Jimmy continued. Kevin glanced at him. There was a look in Jimmy's eye, something that was beyond this situation, beyond being tied up, beyond sticking up for Kevin. It was something more.

"Jimmy, c'mon."

Outside, Kevin's mind was racing. What the hell had just happened in there?

"Jimmy."

"Yeah."

"Did you kill someone?"

"Don't ask me that, Kevin."

"Did you?"

"Don't ask me, Kevin."

"Jimmy."

"No, Kevin."

But it was a lie, and they both knew it. Kevin stopped asking. And Jimmy suddenly laughed, that cackle of a laugh. "Kevin, you nitwit."

"What?"

"Did you even talk to Tommy?"

--

Later at the bar, for the first time in days, things were calm. But then the phone rang.

Sean picked it up. "Firecracker." There was a pause. He then held it out to Tommy, who took it with a frown.

It was Frankie Stein, asking where his brothers had been earlier that day.

Kevin had come over to get another beer but his steps slowed when he saw Tommy's eyes go straight to him.

"A car stolen… is that right?" Tommy raised his eyebrows and Kevin did a quick about-face, ready to make his retreat. But Tommy caught his jacket, holding him in place and Kevin resignedly sank onto the nearest stool. He played with a coaster nervously and watched Tommy's face.

"No." A pause. "Yeah, Frankie. Thanks." Tommy's gaze locked to Kevin's. There was a pause. "Yeah, he would. A lineup, sure. He would love to."

"Tommy." Kevin's heart sped up in his chest. What the hell was Tommy doing?

"What time?" Tommy signaled Jimmy for a beer and caught the bottle that was slid toward him. "'Course he's free."

"Tommy," Kevin hissed. He made a cutting motion with his hand and shook his head. "Not a good idea, Tommy."

"Here, why don't you just talk to Kevin, he's right here." Tommy handed the phone off to Kevin and gave his brother's leg a hard swat as he moved away from the bar.

Sean was watching the exchange from the sidelines and gave Tommy a curious look. "Wasn't that Frankie on the phone?"

Tommy took a drink of his beer. "Yep."

Sean frowned. Tommy looked pleased with himself, but Sean didn't get it. If Frankie had wanted to talk to Kevin, that couldn't be good. Only Tommy ever conversed with Frankie, and it was usually to convince the guy that none of them were involved in whatever trouble it was that he was calling about.

Tommy saw the look on Sean's face. "It's fine. Frankie hung up."

Sean glanced at the bar again. It was true; Kevin had already hung up the phone and had joined Jimmy behind the bar. But something still wasn't right about it.

"Before I gave it to Kevin," Tommy said, noticing the frown. Frankie had hung up after 'Thanks'. The rest of his conversation had been to a dial tone.

Sean looked less concerned now. He gave his brother a smile. "I knew you wouldn't turn him in."

"One of these days." Tommy took a long swallow of his beer. The next time they did something, even stupider than this time around, he would wish he had. And it was true that maybe he shouldn't keep cleaning up their messes. But that was the thing. He knew that he would.

"_Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought._

_But that was the thing I was born for." –Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

**A/N: Well I had to tie the title into a quote, of course. And that's all of this one, folks! I hope that wasn't too abrupt of an ending. It just seemed like the right time to close things off. Thank you all so much for the reviews. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! I intend to have some other things to post soon (if you're interested!). Please let me know if you enjoyed.**


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